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THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


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Works of 

Frances Margaret Fox 

s- 


Farmer Brown and the Birds • . $ *50 

The Little GianFs Neighbours * .50 

Mother Nature^s Little Ones . * .50 

Betty of Old Mackinaw • • ♦ .50 

Brother Billy 50 

How Christmas Came to the Mulva- 

neys . • . • • .50 

The Country Christmas . . • .50 

Little Lady Marjorie • * .150 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
New England Building, Boston, Mass. 



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s 

CHOOSING THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 

(See page 99 ) 


CoS2 Corner S'rrtrs 

THE COUNTRY 
CHRISTMAS 

By ^ ' 

Frances Margaret Fox 

■ Author of 

“Farmer Brown and the Birds,” “Little Lady 
Marjorie,” “ Betty of Old Mackinaw,” “ How Christ- 
mas Came to the Mulvaneys,” etc. 

Illustrated by 

Etheldred B. Barry 



Boston ^ ^ 

L. C. Page & Company 

igoy 


1 UBHARY of WNGRe'sJ} 

I? 

Two Copies Rocelvod * 





Co 


Copyright^ igoy 

By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, June, 1907 



COLONIAL PRESS 

ElectrotyPed and Printed by C. H. Simonds <5r» Co- 
Boston, U . S. A . 



CHAPTER 

I. Hope for the Mulvaneys . 

II. Sally Brown’s New Idea . 

III. House - HUNTING 

IV. Tom Makes a Suggestion . 

V. Something Happened . . . . 

VI. How Stubbins Went to See Mr. 

Hodgkins 

VII. Pigs in the Attic . . . . 

VIII. Stubbins and Chinky Learn Their 
Names 

IX. Hannah’s Pink Dress . . . . 

X. The Home That Was Lost on 

Christmas Day . . . . 

XL Mrs. Mulvaney’s Air Castle 

XII. Welcome Hodgkins Chooses the 

Christmas Tree . . . . 

XII I. On the Trail of Santa Claus 

XIV. The Home That Was Found on 

Christmas Day . . . . 


PAGE 

I 

i8 

28 

35 

46 

54 

63 

69 


77 

86 

93 

lOI 

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Choosing the Christmas Tree {See page gg) 

Frontispiece 

“‘He put on one of her new dresses’” . 7 

“ Pointing to a dilapidated weather- 
beaten STRUCTURE ALMOST HIDDEN FROM 
view” . . . o . . . * 19 

‘‘Whereupon he was taken in hand” . 42 

“Then began a wild ride” .... 52 

“A CLEANER IF NOT A BETTER BOY ” . . 59 

‘‘ Joined her family beneath an apple-tree ” 73 

“ Laughing softly as she rocked ” . .90 

“ The next day Chinky sharpened his 

hatchet” 103 

“The seven stood in a row” . . . 107 






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THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


CHAPTER I 

HOPE FOR THE MULVANEYS 

Sally Brown remembered the Mulvaneys. 
It was no wonder the child talked of them 
at first; but, when she had lived in the coun- 
try two months, her mother and brother Al- 
fred begged her to change the subject. 

‘‘ Give us a rest,’’ was Alfred’s repeated 
command. 

Really, Sally,” her mother remonstrated 
one morning, ‘‘ what is the use of thinking of 
the Mulvaneys all the time? If it did any 
good I wouldn’t say a word, but you only 
make us uncomfortable without helping them 
in the least.” 


2 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ Well, mamma/’ was the reply, you see 
I can’t help hoping.” 

Hoping,” mocked Alfred, hoping for 
what. I’d like to know?” 

If your name was Chinky Mulvaney 
you’d guess quick enough,” was Sally’s re- 
tort. ‘‘ I am hoping the Mulvaneys will get 
out of the city same as we did.” 

Hoping won’t get them out,” said Alfred. 

‘‘ Maybe it won’t and maybe it will,” Sally 
remarked. I notice that when you hope for 
things hard enough, you’re pretty sure to get 
them. That is,” she added, if you do some 
squirming too. Don’t you know, Alfred, you 
can help things happen if you try. I’ve dis- 
covered there’s more’n one way of hoping.” 

Mrs. Brown was ready to go out. Sally, 
my child,” was her parting advice, hope all 
you wish, but please don’t mention the Mul- 
vaneys to Alfred or me for one week.” 

“ She’d never live,” Alfred said, as he 
grabbed his cap and followed his mother. 

Sally flew to the kitchen. “ I can talk to 
you about the Mulvaneys, can’t I, Mrs. 
Turner? Now I am ready to wash the dishes. 
Alfred’s gone to the post-office, and mamma 


HOPE FOR THE MULVANEYS 


3 


has gone to sew for Mrs. Reuben Smith; 
that^s why I didn’t get out here sooner; I 
had to see them off. Mamma says, — what 
do you think? — that I mustn’t say Mul- 
vaney to her for a week. I can talk to you, 
though, can’t I ? ” 

Indeed you may,” laughed Mrs. Isaac 
Turner. I feel as if I had known the Mul- 
vaneys all my life. Talk about them, of 
course you may. Is Mrs. Mulvaney a nice 
looking woman ? ” 

‘‘ Dear me, no,” laughed Sally, playing with 
the soapsuds in the dishpan. She’s about 
as unpretty as any one you ever saw. She’s 
cross as a bear, too, but who wouldn’t be? 
Just ’magine, Mrs. Turner, if you lived in a 
horrid little pig-pen house, and you had seven 
acting children and your Mr. Mulvaney was 
dead, and you had to take in washing? I do 
wish they could come out in the country. I 
wish they could live in this very village. 
Why, Mrs. Turner, they are the most dis- 
couraging children you ever saw. There’s 
Hannah and Chinky and Nora and Dora and 
Mike and Johnnie and Stubbins, and they all 
look worse’n they act.’^ 


4 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


Yes/’ agreed Mrs. Turner, “ I know them 
every one, Sally, just as well as if I had seen 
their photographs. Hannah is tall and thin; 
Chinky is red-headed and freckled; Mike is 
full of mischief ; and Johnnie’s always getting 
into trouble ; and Stubbins is a terror. Now 
why do you want such a family turned loose 
in our pretty village ? ” 

‘‘ Don’t laugh, Mrs. Turner, because it is 
dreadful for children not to have better 
things. They live down by the railroad tracks 
and the river, in mud and dirt. I think it is 
worse for them because they have always 
lived there, and they don’t know anything 
different. They are not so very bad yet, but 
you just wait and see what’ll happen if they 
stay there.” 

‘‘ How is it, Sally, that you like such chil- 
dren?” 

Because,” was the instant response, ‘‘ I 
got acquainted with them. I’ve discovered 
that you’re pretty sure to like every one if 
you only get well enough acquainted. I never 
knew how good Mrs. Mulvaney was until 
mamma was taken to the hospital, and Mrs. 
Mulvaney took me and Alfred in. Of course 


HOPE FOR THE MULVANEYS 5 

she was cross and everything, but Til never 
forget how good she was to us, nor how she 
cried for joy, — that's what mamma said, — 
because they had a gay Christmas for once 
in their lives. She was glad mamma and 
Alfred and I could come here to live, too; 
and now I'll tell you something, Mrs. Turner. 
I'm not the only one that's hoping. This is 
exactly what Mrs. Mulvaney said when we 
talked it over. ‘ We'll put for the country, 
too, Sally, if we ever get a chance! ' So you 
see, she wants to come." 

Nothing more was said about the Mul- 
vaneys for a week, which doesn't mean that 
Sally forgot them. It happened this way: 
Alfred brought a letter from the post-office 
that Saturday morning addressed to Mrs. 
Elizabeth Brown, and as Mrs. Elizabeth 
Brown was away all day, the children passed 
their spare time wondering about its contents. 
At night their curiosity was satisfied. A 
farmer's daughter needed the help of a dress- 
maker for two weeks. Better than that she 
wrote, Come as soon as possible, and bring 
both your children. They can walk to school 
every day with my brother." 


6 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘That lets me out/' declared Alfred; “but 
you may go, Sally, just the same." To show 
how little he cared, Alfred whistled “ Yankee 
Doodle." 

“ Perhaps Mr. Turner would give you a 
vacation," suggested Sally. 

“ Wouldn't ask him," was the reply. 
“ When they take a feller to work for his 
board in a grocery store after school hours, 
and to do chores around the house, he's got 
to tend to business or lose his job." 

Alfred sometimes put on airs. Sally al- 
ways felt humiliated when her brother talked 
about working for his board, and how for- 
tunate it was that one of his mother's children 
happened to be a boy. “ What if we'd both 
been girls? " he used to ask in tones of scorn. 
Instead of feeling sorry for Alfred, when she 
and her mother were driven to the Randall 
farm, Sally envied him because of his im- 
portance at home. 

“How do you like it out there?" asked 
the boy at recess a few days later. 

“ The only thing I don’t like," was the 
reply, “ is coming to school with Tom Ran- 
dall. I am glad he isn't my brother. He’s 










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9 


the worst tease I ever saw. Why Alfred, you 
are a perfect angel beside of him. He made 
Cornelia Mary cry last night, and she's six- 
teen." 

‘‘Who's Cornelia Mary?" 

“ She's his sister. He put on one of her 
new dresses mamma is making, and said he 
was going to wear it out to milk the cows." 

“ Did he do it? " inquired Alfred. 

“ No, his mother made him take it ofif. 
He's fourteen and he thinks he knows it all." 

“ The boys all like him, Sally. If girls 
weren't so silly they wouldn't have so much 
trouble." 

“ You needn't think that bothers me," 
laughed Sally, “ because I want to tell you 
about the Randalls. They're the nicest 
people ever, all but Tom. They live in a 
great big white house with green blinds and 
wide verandas. It must be lovely in the 
summer. You ought to see their cows and 
their horses and their chickens, and when I 
say chickens I mean everything with feathers ; 
pigeons, ducks, and geese, turkeys, and even 
guinea hens. Oh, but it's nice. I can't begin 
to tell you. Cornelia Randall is the sweetest 


lO 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


girl you ever saw, too. She told me to call 
her Cornelia Mary except when I go visiting 
her school next summer, then I must say ‘ Miss 
Randall,' to set the country children a good 
example." 

‘‘ Is she going to be a school teacher ? " 

‘‘Yes, Alfred, and she says she can hardly 
wait for summer. She's passed her examina- 
tion and got her certificate, and she's going 
to teach over in the Hodgkins district. Tom 
declares he'll visit her school and make 
speeches to the children. It would be just 
like him, and she couldn't put him out either, 
if she tried. Cornelia Mary says sometimes 
she wishes she was an only child." 

“ Nice and selfish," suggested Alfred. 

“ You never lived with Tom Randall," ob- 
served Sally. “ There he comes now, and 
don't you dare tell what I told you." 

“Won't I though?" 

“ Oh, no, you won't, Alfred. Wait a min- 
ute," she called, “ I want to tell you some- 
thing. I'm still hoping about the Mulvaneys; 
they would have such a good time in the 
country ! " 


CHAPTER II 


SALLY brown's NEW IDEA 

The following Saturday Tom Randall 
heard some news. 

‘‘You can't guess the latest!" he shouted, 
as he ran up the stairs three steps at a time, 
reaching the door of the sewing-room out of 
breath, and beaming with smiles. 

“ It must be something good," ventured 
Sally, forgetting to pull basting threads in her 
eagerness to hear more. 

Cornelia Mary looked doubtfully at her 
brother. “Well, what is it?" she asked. 

“ Get your camphor bottle ready. I'm go- 
ing to let you down easy, but you had better 
be prepared. Corny, your school’s gone. 
You won't teach in the Hodgkins district 
this year, I can tell you right now." 

“ What do you mean? " 

“ Just what I said." 


12 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ Did the schoolhouse burn up ? ’’ 

Worse’n that/^ 

Have they hired another teacher?” 

‘‘ Worse yet.” 

Come, Tom, tell us.” besought Mrs. 
Brown. 

‘‘He’s fooling!” declared Sally. 

“ No, sir, I mean what I say,” insisted 
Tom. “ Corny’s school has gone, bag and 
baggage.” 

“Well, how could it?” demanded Cor- 
nelia Mary. 

Tom shrugged his shoulders. “ I don’t 
know how it could be so cruel,” he said, 
“ but maybe it didn’t like to have you for a 
teacher. Fact is, it’s gone. The Beans and 
the Kilpatricks have got work in the sugar 
factory, and they moved to town. There 
goes your A Class and your B Class and — ” 

“ Well, the Chart Class isn’t gone,” inter- 
rupted Cornelia Mary, laughing in spite of 
herself at Tom’s antics. “ You can have a 
school if there’s only one child in the whole 
district and little Willie Jessup begins this 
summer. Poor little fellow, he’ll be lone- 
some.” 


SALLY brown's NEW IDEA I3 

No, little Willie won't be lonesome,’^ 
mocked Tom, ‘‘ because little Willie's going 
too. I tell you. Corny, your school's gone. 
Cheer up, you've got me left. I'll be home 
all summer. Never mind the Hodgkins dis- 
trict, let it go." 

‘‘ You go away," retorted Cornelia Mary, 
struggling with tears, “ you're a comfort, 
aren't you? " 

‘‘ It was my painful duty. Corny, to tell 
you before the neighbours did and this is all 
the thanks I get, just ‘ go away.' What an 
ungrateful world it is. Never mind. Corny, 
if you ever need a friend, you come back to 
your sweet brother. He'll forgive you." 

‘‘ Will you go away ! " repeated Cornelia 
Mary. 

Oh, yes," was the reply, I mustn't stay 
in a damp place for fear of rheumatism. 
Better get up your umbrella, Sally," and 
Tom went away whistling. 

Cornelia Mary did cry, at least she cried 
until Sally Brown appeared to be very much 
excited about something. 

‘‘What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Brown, 


14 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


while Cornelia Mary wiped her eyes and 
stared. 

“ Why — why the Mulvaneys ! ’’ exclaimed 
Sally. Why can’t they move out here and 
go to school ? ” 

‘‘Who are the Mulvaneys?” asked Cor- 
nelia Mary. 

“ Well, they’re the Mulvaneys,” Sally in- 
sisted, “ and — ” 

“ Can it be,” interrupted Mrs. Brown, 
“ that Sally has never mentioned them to 
you ? ” 

“ Never,” replied Cornelia Mary. “ Do 
tell me about them.” 

“ You, mamma, you will tell it so much 
better than I could.” 

“ It is a dismal story,” began Mrs. Brown, 
“ and one I would gladly have forgotten.” 

“ Why Mamma Brown ! ” 

“ Don’t misunderstand me, Sally ; I shall 
never forget Mrs. Mulvaney’s kindness, but 
as I have said a dozen times, we cannot help 
the family and there is no use in continually 
dwelling upon their misery.” 

“ Only I can’t help hoping,” murmured 
Sally. “ Go on, mamma.” 


SALLY brown's NEW IDEA 1 5 

When the story was finished, Cornelia 
Mary turned to Sally with, a puzzled look on 
her face. 

How do you think we could get that 
family into the Hodgkins district?" she 
asked. “What would they do? I mean, 
where would they live, and what could Mrs. 
Mulvaney do to earn their bread and butter, 
rd like to know ? " 

“Couldn’t she take in washing?" de- 
manded Sally. 

Cornelia Mary shook her head. “ I’m 
afraid not in the country." 

“ Oh, but she could," Sally declared. 
“ Mrs. Turner says she could get more 
washing to do in the village than five 
women could manage, especially when the 
summer boarders are there. Mrs. Turner 
says too she’s even wondered why some one 
doesn’t start a laundry." 

“ But that’s in the village and wouldn’t 
help my school any." 

“ Maybe that’s true," agreed Sally, “ but 
couldn’t they live in the country, and couldn’t 
Chinky and Hannah go after the washings 
and take them home? The worst trouble is 


l6 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

finding a place for the Mulvaneys to live. 
There isn't a house they could get in the 
village." 

‘‘ How do you know ? " asked Mrs. Brown. 

Sally smiled. ‘‘ Oh, Mrs. Turner and I 
went house-hunting only last Saturday. We 
thought maybe we could find a cheap little 
house, but we couldn’t on account of the new 
sugar factory. Houses are scarce and rents 
are high. We found out a few things. 
That’s the way I do my hoping, mamma.’’ 

‘‘Would they come?’’ inquired Cornelia 
Mary, growing interested. 

“ Come ! ’’ echoed Sally, “ they’d come 
flying!’’ 

“ Yes, they would,’’ agreed her mother. 
“ There’s no doubt of it. But how could we 
manage, Cornelia Mary? Where could they 
get a house, and how could they furnish 
it?’’ 

“Of course they would have to bring their 
furniture,’’ suggested Cornelia Mary. 

“ But they haven’t anything worth men- 
tioning, even if they could afford the ex- 
pense. I doubt if Mrs. Mulvaney ever had 
money enough ahead to buy tickets for the 


SALLY brown's NEW IDEA 


17 

whole family, and their clothes are unthink- 
able. No, it is hopeless.'' 

Don't say that, Mrs. Brown, on account 
of my school. If there is a way to get them 
here, Sally and I must do it. Father will 
help us, I know. Come on, Sally, we'll go 
and find him. If what Tom says is true, 
and I'm sure it is because I heard some- 
thing about it last week, why, there'll be 
three houses empty and perhaps we may be 
able to get one of them cheap." 

You never can tell until you try," added 
Sally. 


CHAPTER III 


HOUSE - HUNTING 

The Beans, the Kilpatricks, and the Jes- 
sups might as well have taken their houses 
with them so far as the Mulvaneys were 
concerned. Mr. Bean's father and mother 
were to live in their vacant house. The Kil- 
patrick home was rented to an old couple 
related to the Beans, while the residence of 
the Jessups was to be torn down. 

Cornelia Mary and Sally drove slowly 
homeward after their first experience in 
country house-hunting. 

‘‘Now what do you think?" inquired 
Cornelia Mary, giving the reins an impatient 
jerk. 

“ I think — " began Sally, “ well, I think 
we got left." 

That remark made the girls laugh. Hav- 
ing laughed the prospect seemed less dismal. 

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POINTING TO A DILAPIDATED WEATHER-BEATEN STRUCTURE ALMOST 

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HOUSE - HUNTING 


21 


Wasn't it too bad about the Jessup 
house ? " Cornelia Mary resumed. ‘‘ It was 
so tumbled down the rent couldn't be much 
and they might have got along somehow. 
Was it a great deal worse than the house 
they live in ? " 

Worse," echoed Sally, ‘‘ it was sixty hun- 
dred times better. Why, the Mulvaneys live 
in a little bit of a black old shanty — " Sally 
stopped suddenly, then exclaimed in excited 
tones, ‘‘ A house ! A house ! Whoa ! " 

‘‘A house?" questioned Cornelia Mary, 
looking into the sky as if expecting to see 
it drop from the clouds. 

Right there ! " continued Sally, pointing 
to a dilapidated weather-beaten structure al- 
most hidden from view by overgrown bushes 
and old weed stalks. 

Giddap," laughed Cornelia Mary, trot 
along. Why, Sally, you gave me such a 
start. I am sure I know now how Columbus 
felt when the mariners shouted land." 

‘‘ But it's a house," insisted Sally, and 
no one is living in it. Whoa, horse! Make 
him stop, Cornelia Mary, I want to get out. 
Who owns that house and why is it empty? " 


22 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ All right, whoa, Bess ! Climb out, Sally, 
you shall see the house, that is if you can 
reach it without tearing your dress. Wait 
a minute while I tie the horse to this tree.’’ 

‘‘ But it’s deserted ! ” Sally exclaimed, “ and 
the windows are all boarded up ; we can’t see 
much. Who owns it ? Let’s go for the 
key?” 

“ No one will ever live in that house 
again,” declared Cornelia Mary. “To begin 
with, it’s the oldest house in the country and 
the man who built it lived in it for a long 
time. Then he biiilt a new house and his 
hired man lived here. After that a great 
many different families rented it; then for 
years it was empty. One time a crazy man, 
whose folks owned the mill, broke in the 
house and said he was going to stay there 
until he died. The owner said let him have 
his own way as he was harmless, and if the 
family would supply his wants he might have 
the house rent free.” 

“ And did he live here all alone way back 
from the road?” asked Sally, gazing curi- 
ously about the place. 

“ Yes, and they say he was happier than 


HOUSE - HUNTING 


23 


he ever was in his life before; he kept 
chickens and pigs and had gardens — why, 
Sally, there is a regular wild flower garden 
here every summer to this day, and the man's 
been dead since long before I was born." 

“And hasn't anybody lived here since?" 
asked Sally. 

“ Of course not." 

“Why?" 

Cornelia Mary shrugged her shoulders. 
“ Oh, folks are queer about some things, 
Sally. I wouldn't stay all night in this house 
for anything, myself, not for anything." 

“Why not?" 

“ Well, don't you see, the old fellow was 
crazy, and sometimes he used to sing and 
howl all night long." 

“ But, Cornelia Mary, he's dead now, and 
this is a good, big house. It would be a pal- 
ace for the Mulvaneys. Who owns it?" 

“ The same man who allowed the poor old 
lunatic to have it for a home. He's queer, 
too. I never said anything but ‘ good morn- 
ing,' or ‘ how do you do ' to him in my 
life." 


“ Where does he live ? " 


24 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


“ Oh, just a little way from here around 
the next corner on the Bay Shore road/’ 

‘‘What’s his name?” 

“ Welcome Hodgkins.” 

“Oh, he’s the Hodgkins district, is he?” 

“ No,” laughed Cornelia, “ not exactly, al- 
though his ancestors gave the district its 
name. I tell you he’s a queer old fellow — 
the only Hodgkins left in the country. I 
really shouldn’t like to call on him, but we’ll 
do it if you think the Mulvaneys would live 
here, and if you’ll do the talking.” 

“ Well, come on then,” said Sally. 

“ Oh, Sally, but my heart is set on teach- 
ing school this summer; I do hope they’ll 
come. Yes, I’ll go with you to see Mr. 
Hodgkins. We’ll walk. He has the best 
farm in the country but I tell you he’s queer; 
nobody ever goes to see him. He lives in 
that large white house straight ahead.” 

“ But, Cornelia Mary, the blinds are all 
closed. I don’t believe he’s at home.” 

“ That’s nothing, Sally, he lives alone in 
the back of his house. I told you he was 
queer.” 

“Where’s his wife?” 


HOUSE - HUNTING 


25 


Dead, years ago.’’ 

Glad to see you, come in,” said Mr. 
Hodgkins, opening wide his kitchen door, at 
the girls’ timid knock. 

The man’s eyes were so kind and he smiled 
so pleasantly Sally liked him. 

‘‘ We’ve come on an important errand, Mr. 
Hodgkins,” she began. ‘‘ It’s about Cor- 
nelia’s school. Unless you will help us, 
Cornelia Mary can’t teach school this sum- 
mer.” 

‘‘Indeed?” questioned Mr. Hodgkins. “I 
shall certainly be pleased to do all in my 
power to assist the young lady.” 

Sally told him the story of the Mulvaneys. 
When she finished speaking there was silence 
for a moment. “ Guess he is queer,” thought 
Sally. Mr. Hodgkins’s first remark was un- 
satisfactory, to say the least. 

“ Oom — um — I dunno,” he murmured. 

“ Is it about the rent ? ” Sally inquired. 

“ Ooom — um,” replied Mr. Hodgkins. 

“ Unless you wanted too much money,” 
continued the child, “ I think she could man- 
age it. She has to pay rent where they live 
now.” 


26 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


At that Welcome Hodgkins found his 
voice. ‘‘ It’s the children,” he confessed. 
“ They could have the house and welcome, 
but I can’t say as I relish having the young 
savages raising Cain on my farm.” 

‘‘ It seems to me they could be trained,” 
faltered Sally. 

Something in her tone troubled Welcome 
Hodgkins. ‘‘ Come with me and see the 
house,” he suggested, and we’ll consider the 
matter.” 

For the first time in years spring sunshine 
streamed across the threshold of the lonely 
dwelling among the bushes. Once more the 
old rooms echoed a childish voice and foot- 
steps from the outside world. 

“ It’s not a bad sort of a house after all,” 
remarked the owner, having lighted the lamp 
he carried. “ Musty and damp now to be 
sure, but it’s roomy and might easily be re- 
paired. Well, I dunno, let them come and if 
they misbehave, we’ll train them.” 

“ Mr. Hodgkins, you’re an awful nice man, 
and Mrs. Mulvaney’ll say so too, when she 
gets my letter.” 


HOUSE HUNTING 27 

I don’t know how to thank you,” added 
Cornelia Mary. 

‘‘ Well, children, here’s the key. I’ll un- 
board the windows any time you give the 
word. I’m thinking. Miss Cornelia Mary, 
that you and I will have our hands full this 
summer. Good day.” 

‘‘Isn’t he a nice man?” whispered Sally, 
as Welcome Hodgkins sauntered homeward. 

“ Oom — um — I dunno,” was the re- 
sponse. “ I still think he’s queen” 


CHAPTER IV 

TOM MAKES A SUGGESTION 

Every one in the Randall family became 
interested in the fortunes of the Mulvaneys. 
Even the hired man offered his services in 
getting the house ready for the new tenants. 

‘‘ Like enough a little fresh paint’d be a 
good thing,” he remarked. 

‘‘ Fresh paint,” repeated Tom, ‘‘ yes, sir, 
that’s just the thing to furnish a house with. 
If I couldn’t have but one piece of furniture. 
I’d take fresh paint. I wouldn’t say give me 
a bed, or a table, or a chair, or a small article 
like a kitchen stove; no, sir. I’d say, fresh 
paint for me, if you please, fresh paint or 
nothing.” 

‘‘ Tom, you are the most consoling mortal,” 
interrupted Cornelia Mary. ‘‘We completely 
forgot about the furniture.” 

“Jake didn’t, though; he knew that as 

28 


TOM MAKES A SUGGESTION 29 

long as the Mulvaneys had fresh paint they'd 
be all right. Now, who'll give the paint? 
Corny, you ought to do it, because think of 
the salary you’ll earn teaching that school." 

Hold on, young man," said Mr. Randall, 
Jake's idea is good, and I'll donate all the 
paint he'll put on." 

Father has a lot left from painting the 
barn," Cornelia Mary whispered to Mrs. 
Brown. 

‘‘ They may have our old kitchen stove, 
too," added Mrs. Randall. ‘‘ It's a nice little 
stove, but we've had no use for it since we 
bought the range, and it's in the woodshed 
covered with rust. I should be glad to get 
it out of the -way." 

Without warning Tom stood on his head 
and waved his feet in the air. 

‘‘Tom Randall, what possesses you?" 
asked his mother, giving the pillows on the 
sitting-room couch a vigorous shake. 

“ I wish to speak in meeting," explained 
Tom. “ It's no circus performance. Cheer 
up, Corney, I'll teach the Mulvaneys how to 
raise their feet instead of their hands when 
they have to ask questions in school." 


30 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

ril give you a new lesson in shingling if 
you try it/’ observed his father, laughing 
with the rest of the family at the change of 
expression on Tom’s face. 

“ I was about to make a suggestion,” Tom 
continued. ‘‘ Now don’t giggle. Corny and 
Sally, I’m serious. I say let’s go furniture- 
hunting all through the country.” 

Oh, Tom, you dear ! ” exclaimed Cor- 
nelia Mary. ‘‘The very thing! I suppose 
every one of our neighbours has old furniture 
in their woodsheds and attics they would be 
glad to get rid of.” 

Sally clapped her hands and tried to speak. 
She had barely time to open her mouth be- 
fore Cornelia Mary had finished a request. 

“Oh, Tom, will you go with us? We’ll 
hitch Bess to the lumber wagon and you 
drive. Will you?” 

Tom considered a moment, as became his 
dignity, before replying. “ I’ll go on one 
condition. If mother and father and Mrs. 
Brown will let us all stay home from school, 
we’ll begin to-morrow morning.” 

“ Oh, let them,” begged Cornelia Mary, 
“ do say yes.” 


TOM MAKES A SUGGESTION 31 

Permission was given, to the great surprise 
of Master Tom. 

But he’s such a tease,” objected Sally. 

You’re only half-acquainted with Tom,” 
declared his sister. He has streaks of real 
goodness, and when he says he’ll help, he 
always does it.” 

Bess must have thought picnics had begun 
early when Tom, Cornelia Mary, and Sally 
scrambled into the lumber wagon the follow- 
ing morning. They laughed so much, and 
acted so generally foolish, the old horse 
turned her head several times, as if she 
couldn’t understand the occasion for such 
hilarity. 

‘‘ We must ask for left over rolls of wall 
paper,” suggested Cornelia Mary. ‘‘ Jake 
and father promised to open the house to- 
day. They are going to put up the stove 
and build a fire. Mother says that old crazy 
man was neat as wax, and that the rela- 
tives left the house in perfect order after the 
funeral.” 

‘‘How many rooms in the shebang?” 
questioned Tom. 

“Let me think; there’s a sitting-room, a 


32 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

bedroom, a dining-room, and a kitchen down- 
stairs. I think Mr. Hodgkins said there 
were three rooms up-stairs, didn't he, Sally?'’ 

‘‘ Yes, three rooms, and kind of an attic 
over the kitchen. Oh, what will the Mul- 
vaneys think ? They have only two little 
rooms and a place above for the children to 
sleep, where they live, and the children were 
never in a decent house in their lives. They 
are not used to furniture, let me tell you. 
They didn't own but one real bed." 

The first donation was a what-not, given 
by Mrs. George Saunders. 

‘‘ That thing'll be a comfort," commented 
Tom. 

‘‘It'll help fix up the sitting-room," com- 
mented Cornelia Mary. 

“What's it for?" asked Sally. 

“ To stand in the corner," was the reply. 
“ You're supposed to put pretty things on the 
shelves." 

“ Hope nobody'll give us another," fal- 
tered Sally. 

Deacon Trowbridge happened to be think- 
ing of buying new furniture. He was glad 
to help load his old lounge, two arm-chairs. 


TOM MAKES A SUGGESTION 33 

and a marble-topped table upon the lumber 
wagon. 

‘‘ Furniture’s picking up,” remarked Tom 
as he drove on. 

Before the day was done the old horse was 
resting her feet in the barn, while the Ran- 
dall family, including grandfather and the 
hired man were examining second-hand fur- 
niture in the woodshed. 

‘‘I wouldn’t have believed it possible,” said 
Mrs. Brown. 

Nor I,” Mrs. Randall added. Do you 
see the lace curtains! And if there isn’t Mrs. 
Moses Pendleton’s old sewing-machine ! I 
didn’t suppose she’d give a thing. How did 
it happen, Cornelia Mary?” 

You see, mamma, I knew that woman 
had two machines because I was there the 
day the new one was brought home, and I 
suppose she guessed what I was thinking 
about when Sally told the story.” 

‘‘ Oh, but I’m getting sick of telling that 
old story,” laughed Sally. ‘‘ I’ll be glad when 
we get through collecting furniture.” 

The hired man kept his word. With a 
great deal of advice and more or less help 


34 the country Christmas 

from the children he painted, papered, and 
got the house in order inside and out. Many 
of the neighbours assisted with the work of 
settling, then went home to ransack their 
attics afresh to supply newly discovered 
needs. 

In the village Mrs. Isaac Turner used her 
influence. Through her efforts a barrel of 
flour and a box of groceries found their way 
to the Mulvaney pantry. Tubs and a wash- 
boiler were purchased by the future school 
teacher. Inspired by her example Tom made 
a wash-bench. It was a good one, too, 
strong and heavy. Mrs. Brown bought the 
material and Sally hemmed towels. Mrs. 
Randall provided sheets while Mr. Randall 
gave a generous load of wood. 

At last, when all was ready, Sally wrote 
to Mrs. Mulvaney. 


CHAPTER V 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

It would be hard to say who was more 
surprised by Sally’s letter, the postman or 
Mrs. Mulvaney. Both stared doubtfully at 
the envelope, the postman appearing unwill- 
ing to leave the letter, while Mrs. Mulvaney 
was equally uncertain of her right to it. The 
children were out. When the postman was 
gone their mother put a stick of wood in the 
kitchen stove, poked the clothes in the boiler, 
glanced at the wash-tubs, then went in the 
Other Room. 

‘‘Well, I never!” she remarked, turning 
the envelope over and over before opening it. 

I wonder what Mulvaney would think ! ” 

Three times while Mrs. Mulvaney was 
reading the letter she opened and closed her 
mouth without uttering a sound. The fourth 
time she managed to say, “Well I never!” 


35 


36 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

At last she returned to the wash-boiler and 
poked the clothes so vigorously it is a wonder 
she didn't punch holes through them. Next 
she made an attack on the wash-tub. She 
flipped, flapped, and jerked the clothes over 
the board, pounded on the soap, and worked 
with such energy Johnnie didn't dare enter 
the kitchen. He always peeped in the win- 
dow before venturing further. 

‘‘ She’d spank us,” he murmured, running 
to warn his brothers and sisters to ‘‘ keep 
back.” 

It was well that he did so. His mother 
was in no mood to be trifled with. In the 
shortest possible time the washing was fin- 
ished and hung on the line. 

‘‘ Now then,” said Mrs. Mulvaney, going 
in the Other Room and searching under the 
bed for an old stocking which she dragged 
forth quickly, ‘‘ we’ll see.” 

‘‘ More in it than I thought,” she went on, 
pouring the contents in her lap, then rapidly 
counting the money. ‘‘Eight tickets! It 
won’t take long to find out what they’ll cost. 
I’ll go to the Grand Central Station and 
price them. Where’s my good skirt ? ” 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


37 


The garment was easily found. It was on 
the floor in the corner with soiled clothes and 
various other articles. Mrs. Mulvaney slipped 
it over her working-dress unmindful of aproii 
strings sticking through the placket hole in 
the back. 

Now my bonnet/’ she continued. Mrs. 
Mulvaney owned a bonnet, but where to look 
for it was perplexing. She found it under 
the bed, then twisted her hair in a tighter 
knot before putting it on. Finding her shawl 
was a harder matter, until Mrs. Mulvaney 
recalled having placed it over the dishpan in 
which the bread was rising, or trying to rise. 

“Now Fm ready; I wonder where the 
young ones are? Hannah, Hannah Mul- 
vaney?” she called from the kitchen door, 
“ step lively, you’re all to come in this min- 
ute.” 

Obedience was a shining virtue in the Mul- 
vaney family. The children came. 

“ Why, ma,” protested Mike, “ you ain’t 
going to leave us, I hope.” 

By way of reply Mrs. Mulvaney jerked 
Mike through the doorway, knocking him 
against Johnnie with such force the little 


38 the country CHRISTMAS 

fellow sat down in the dishpan containing the 
uncovered bread dough. 

“ Don't stir out of this house while I'm 
gone," commanded Mrs. Mulvaney, sailing 
away without looking behind, which was a 
fortunate thing for Johnnie. Before his 
mother's return he had scraped off most of 
the dough from his trousers, with the help 
of the twins. 

Kind o' sthicky, ain't it?" commented 
Stubbins, tasting of the dough. ‘‘Thay! I'd 
give a thent to know where ma went." 

‘‘ Maybe she ain't never coming back," 
suggested Hannah, after a long silence. 

“Yes she is; look alive, kids," shouted 
Chinky, “ she's coming like the fire engine. 
Watch out!" 

“ I bet she's been after a policeman, and 
we'll all get took to jail," whispered Johnnie, 
looking for a place to hide and finding none. 

When Mrs. Mulvaney returned she said 
nothing at first, and the children were too 
frightened by her behaviour to dare speak. 
They didn't know what to think as they 
watched their mother count eight green slips 
of paper which she afterward pinned inside 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


39 


her dress. The next astonishing perform- 
ance was the writing of a postal card which 
the woman straightway mailed. 

‘‘ Whath going to happen?'’ questioned 
Stubbins. No one knew. 

“ My thaketh ! " was a later exclamation 
from Stubbins. My thaketh alive ! Here 
cometh the thecond-hand man with ma ! " 

Even his errand was a mystery to the 
seven, as before he was invited in, the chil- 
dren were turned out. 

That night when Chinky carried the wash- 
ing home, he told the customer that it was 
the last work his mother would ever do for 
her. 

‘^Why?" demanded the woman. 

‘‘ Can't prove it by me," was the reply, ‘‘ I 
dunno no more about it'n you do." 

The next morning the second-hand man 
called at eight, and carried away the stove, 
the wash-boiler, the tubs, Mrs. Mulvaney's 
bed and bureau, the few chairs, in fact every- 
thing that he could possibly sell. By this 
time the children were absolutely terrified. 

We're going to move ! " announced their 
mother. What's more, we're going to have 


40 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


a ride on the cars. You must all wash up 
and ril tidy your hair. Then wedl get ready 
to start. We ain’t got a trunk to pack things 
in, but weVe got pa’s satchel. Eight of us 
ought to carry what’s left here in our hands.” 

“ How’ll we take all the clothes that was 
give to us Christmas?” asked Hannah. 

‘‘ You’ll wear ’em,” was the reply. You 
ain’t got but three dresses to your name, and 
if you can’t get ’em all on, you ain’t good 
for much. Thin as you be, I don’t know but 
you’ll hold more clothes than just your own. 
We’ll see.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney began on poor Stubbins. 
He was plump and given to stumbling any- 
way, but by the time his mother had squeezed 
him into two suits and three overcoats of 
various sizes, he could scarcely wiggle, nor 
could he bend his arms. 

I’ll tie up a little bundle of stuff for you 
to carry in one hand,” said Mrs. Mulvaney, 
‘‘ and you can take the clothes-stick in the 
other. It’s too good to leave behind. Now 
don’t you stir,” she continued, until the 
others are ready.” 

Well, ma,” 


grumbled Stubbins, I 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


41 


couldn’t sthir if I wanted to. I sthick out all 
around ith like a pig. I thay ! I’m too 
warm ! ” 

Mike laughed at Stubbing, so Mrs. Mul- 
vaney chose him for the next victim. He 
quickly felt and looked like his little brother. 

“ You can take the kerosene can in one 
hand, and the dishpan in the other,” said 
Mrs. Mulvaney. Then Mike felt worse than 
Stubbing, but protest was useless. He had to 
carry the kerosene can and the old dishpan. 

Johnnie looked too pleased, whereupon he 
was taken in hand, — “ rigged out,” as his 
mother said. “ You can carry the wash- 
board,” she went on, “ it’s almost as good as 
new; I don’t care what the second-hand man 
had to say.” 

“ Oh, ma,” besought Johnnie, “ let Chinky 
carry the wash-board, he’s bigger. I might 
fall and break it.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney was so in the habit of 
spanking Johnnie she began as usual, before 
she thought how well padded he was. 

“ Thay, ma, you’ll have to thlap him,” ad- 
vised Stubbins. “ He ith only got hith 
fathe.” 


42 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ Lucky for once/' chuckled Mike. Even 
Mrs. Mulvaney laughed. 

In the meantime Hannah made clothes- 
racks of Nora and Dora. Fearing she might 



have to carry the rusty tin pails herself, she 
asked' her mother what she wished to put in 
them for the twins to take. 

‘‘ Provisions," was the reply, you can 
pack up the bread and whatever's left in the 
cupboards. Get your own extra clothes on 



SOMETHING HAPPENED 


43 


right lively now. You’re to carry pa’s pic- 
ture. The frame ain’t heavy and you know 
how to be careful.” 

Maybe I better take the pails an’ you 
carry the picture,” objected Hannah. ‘‘ I’m 
afraid I might spoil it. It’s all I can do to 
manage my arms on ’count of so many 
sleeves.” 

I’ll take the picture,” offered Chinky, 
trying to evade the mop, broom, clothes-line, 
pole, and clothes-pin basket his mother thrust 
upon him. 

‘‘ You’ll carry what I say,” declared Mrs. 
Mulvaney, putting on all the garments she 
owned. Then she packed Mr. Mulvaney’s 
old satchel so full the sides burst. 

I can tie it up,” said she, tearing a strip 
from a ragged blanket for the purpose. ‘‘ I’ll 
have to carry pa’s satchel and make these 
quilts and things into a bundle. There now! 
there are two of your pa’s old coats. Who’ll 
take ’em? Can’t carry ’em, you say, got your 
hands full? I’ll fix it, Chinky, you can wear 
one and Hannah can wear the other. Hold 
still and I’ll button them around you. 


44 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


They’re just short enough so they won’t 
drag.” 

“ Look here, ma ? ” offered Chinky, you 
roll ’em up in a tight bundle and I guess I 
can carry ’em after all.” 

I thought you could manage,” agreed 
Mrs. Mulvaney. ‘‘ You see we’re going 
where I may get some time to do fancy 
work, and I’m thinking of making rugs of 
pa’s old coats to remember him by.” 

“ Oh, ma, look at us ! ” wailed Hannah 
when the procession was ready to start. 
‘‘ Have we got to go looking like this? ” 

‘‘ I don’t see no other way and you needn’t 
feel bad, Hannah, because we don’t look sty- 
lish. You may be a school teacher some day,” 
predicted her mother. ‘‘ Fact is we’re all go- 
ing to have a chance to be folks, and if I 
was you young ones. I’d try and forget what 
we look like now, and think hard about how 
fine we’ll look next time we go on the cars 
with our trunks and umbrells and land knows 
what; and when we all get set down in the 
Grand Central Station to wait for the cars. 
I’ll tell you where we’re going and all about 
it.” 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


45 


Thaketh alive, ma! it don’t theem ath if 
I could ever get there with tho many thingth 
on, and thay ! but you look — ” 

You start your boots,” interrupted the 
mother of Stubbins, ‘‘ or you’ll feel worse’n 
you look.” 


CHAPTER VI 


HOW STUBBINS WENT TO SEE MR. HODGKINS 

Tom Randall, Cornelia Mary, and Sally 
met the Mulvaneys with a lumber wagon. In 
spite of all Cornelia Mary could do to pre- 
vent such actions, Tom fairly shouted when 
he saw the family lifted from the train by the 
grinning brakeman, while Sally's face was 
the colour of a poppy as she went forward to 
greet her friends. It wasn't easy to claim the 
Mulvaneys in the presence of the amused pas- 
sengers, whose faces filled the car windows. 
It was a relief to hear the engine whistle and 
see the train start. 

‘‘ We're going right straight to your 
house," Sally told Mrs. Mulvaney. ‘‘ Mamma 
is there this morning waiting for you. Why 
won't the children talk? What's the matter? 
Have they lost their tongues ? " 

‘‘ They never was on the cars before," ex- 
46 


HOW STUBBINS WENT TO SEE MR. HODGKINS 47 

plained Mrs. Mulvaney, and they behaved 
real well. They act kind of bashful now.'' 
Whereupon the seven looked foolish, and 
wouldn't speak to Sally. Even Stubbins was 
dumb. 

‘‘ This is your new teacher," Sally contin- 
ued by way of introducing the family, and 
that boy on the front seat is her brother Tom. 
Climb in, children. Where will you sit, Mrs. 
Mulvaney? " 

‘‘ I'll just hist myself on to the front seat 
with the boy," was the reply, and that must 
have been the reason Tom drove home by 
way of Park's Corner instead of through the 
village. 

‘‘ Why, Tom," remonstrated Cornelia 
Mary, it's three miles farther the road 
you've started on ! " 

‘‘ Want to give your school a chance to 
see the country," was the response. ‘‘ Geddap, 
geddap ! " 

‘‘ This spring air won't hurt anybody," Sally 
put in. ‘‘ Oh, Hannah, isn’t it lovely? Aren't 
you ever going to talk again, Hannah ? '’ 

Not a word from Hannah. Stubbins was 
the first to find his voice. Oh, pigth, pigth. 


48 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

thop the horthe ! ’’ he cried. ‘‘ Thay, boy, I 
want to thee the pigth ! 

Whoa ! said Tom. ‘‘ Didn't you ever 
see pigs before, Stubbins?" 

‘‘ Yeth, but I never thaw pigth in the coun- 
try, did I?" 

‘‘ Do you like pigs ? " 

‘‘ I geth I do ! Are they pigth where we 
are going? " 

Giddap," repeated Tom, pulling at the 
reins, and then turning so that he could look 
at Stubbins he said this: 

‘‘ Pigs ? Why, I should say yes ! Look 
here, Stubbins, there are so many pigs in the 
country they run wild — wild, I say, and if 
any little kid is a pig catcher all he's got to 
do is catch a pig and keep it if he can. You 
can even take pigs to school here, ride 'em 
right into the schoolhouse if the door's open." 

Stubbins glanced inquiringly at Cornelia 
Mary, but she and Sally were busy talking 
with Mike and Johnnie, while Chinky and 
Hannah were busy listening to them. Mrs. 
Mulvaney was thinking, and paid no atten- 
tion to Tom's nonsense. 

‘‘ Thay, boy," suggested Stubbins, leth 


HOW STUBBINS WENT TO SEE MR. HODGKINS 49 

thop the horthe and go back and get thome 
pigth now.’’ 

‘‘ Haven’t time,” was the reply, ‘‘ plenty of 
wild pigs all through the country ; you’ll want 
something to do when you get home.” 

During the rest of the drive, Stubbins 
hugged his bundle and dreamed of pigs, and 
after a few minutes’ silence Tom entertained 
Mrs. Mulvaney with stories of the house in 
which she was to live. 

I wouldn’t stay in that house over night 
for one thousand dollars ! ” he remarked. 

‘‘ Land sake, why not? ” asked the woman. 

In low tones lest Cornelia Mary should 
overhear, Tom did his best to scare Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. He told nothing but the truth, but 
he handled the truth in such a way Mrs. Mul- 
vaney felt cold chills going up and down her 
back in spite of all the clothes she had on. 
At last she spoke. 

‘‘ Now that’s enough, young man,” she 
said, and if I ever catch you telling my 
young ones any of that stuff, I’ll shake some 
sense into you. You’ll be more rattled-headed 
than you are now, if I ever lay hands on 
you.” 


50 the country CHRISTMAS 

Giddap/’ remarked Tom, astonished for 
once in his life. 

If Heaven had opened to receive the Mul- 
vaneys, they could scarcely have been more 
pleased than when the new home was reached. 

Early in the afternoon Stubbins slipped 
away from the family and went in search of 
wild pigs. Tom was right. Back of the house 
was a field of small pigs. Stubbins gave a 
shout of joy and started in pursuit. He 
caught a little pig easily, and carried it, kick- 
ing and squealing, to his new home. 

The family were in the sitting-room and 
didn’t hear Stubbins when he carried the pig 
through the kitchen, the dining-room, and up 
the stairs. Into the attic over the kitchen he 
thrust the pig, then returned to the field for 
another. In less than an hour, five pigs were 
in that attic and Stubbins was happy. 

Now I think I thaw a nithe big pig 
thomewhere,” he remarked, climbing a fence, 
and looking carefully over the fields of his 
neighbour, Welcome Hodgkins. Sure enough ! 
Beyond the field in which he caught the five 
was one big pig. Away flew Stubbins. It 


HOW STUBBINS WENT TO SEE MR. HODGKINS 5 1 

wouldn’t be so easy to get that pig home be- 
cause it was too big to carry. 

‘‘ Come, pig, pig, pig/' called Stubbins, 
‘‘ nithe piggie, come pig/' 

The nice pig looked up, and said, “ Ooof — 
oof — oof ! Ugh — ugh — ugh ! ” 

Stubbins ventured nearer, but the pig took 
alarm and trotted grunting across the field. 
The pig had four legs and Stubbins only two 
rather uncertain ones; nevertheless, after 
rather an exciting chase, the pig was caught. 

‘‘ Now, mithter, how will I get you home? 
Hold sthill; here, I geth Til have to get on 
and ride the way that boy thed. Geddap over 
to the gate. Hold sthill till I get hold of your 
ear. Wait, Ithay!” 

The pig wouldn’t wait, and Stubbins 
wouldn’t let go. Clinging to the creature’s 
ears, he somehow managed to scramble on its 
back. Then began a wild ride. 

I didn’t know a pig could go tho fatht,” 
gasped Stubbins, hanging on for dear life, 
while the pig squealed and squealed and 
squealed. ‘‘ Why, thay ! What you trying to 
do, pig?” grumbled Stubbins, as the animal 


52 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


began rubbing him against the fence corner. 
“ Oh, I thay, get out of thith ! ” 

The pig got out, but he made straight for 
the barnyard where Welcome Hodgkins was 



feeding the chickens. There was a scattering 
of poultry as the pig dashed beneath a wagon 
in the middle of the yard, landing Stubbins — 
bump — swish ! on his back in the mud. 

“ Sthop the pig,” cried Stubbins, struggling 
to his feet, “ thop my pig I thay ! ” 

“ See here, youngster, that’s my pig ! ” de- 


HOW STUBBINS WENT TO SEE MR. HODGKINS 53 

dared Welcome Hodgkins. “ Who are you, 
anyway, and what are you trying to do with 
my pig? ” 

“ I’m Thubbinth, and I wath taking the pig 
to njy houthe. I didn’t know it wath your 
pig, and I didn’t come to thee you, tho there ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


PIGS IN THE ATTIC 

Stubbins Mulvaney was naturally honest. 
Mr. Welcome Hodgkins was kind. So it 
came about that when the man talked pleas- 
antly to the muddy boy about the rights of 
farmers and the ownership of pigs in par- 
ticular, the child grew red in the face and 
looked uncomfortable. 

‘‘ Thay ! ’’ he burst out, ‘‘ I geth I thole 
five pigth. That boy thed pigth wath wild, 
tho I took thome home. I put 'em up sthairth, 
where they'd keep thafe. Do you th'pothe 
they wath your pigth ? " 

‘‘ Of course they were my pigs," replied 
the man, and you must take them carefully 
back to the field. Wait a minute! If you 
go to your mother all covered with mud I'll 
warrant you'll get spanked." 

“ Thath nothing," was the reply, ‘‘ ma ith 


54 


PIGS IN THE ATTIC 


55 


uthed to mud and if I get thpanked I ith uthed 
to that, tho ith all right. Thay! I like pigs. 
Do you care if I thee you feed your pigth? ” 

“ Certainly you may, and I’ll tell you what, 
youngster,” said Mr. Hodgkins, “ I believe 
you’re a pretty good boy. After you put the 
five pigs where they belong, you come over 
and have a talk with me, will you ? ” 

“ Yeth, thir,” and Stubbins left the barn- 
yard fast as he could go, except by riding a 
pig bareback. 

In the meantime the five pigs in the attic 
had been playing Pussy Wants a Corner, 
or Tag, or some other game that kept their 
twenty feet continually pattering. Sally no- 
ticed them first. 

“ Hush, everybody,” she cautioned. “ I 
thought I heard something go trot — trot — 
trot right here in the house.” 

Sure enough. When the children stopped 
their merry chatter, the sound of many feet 
could not be mistaken. 

“ Stubbins is up to something,” said Mrs. 
Mulvaney. “ Go call him, Hannah.” 

The child obeyed, but no Stubbins re- 
sponded inside or outside of the house. 


56 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


“ It ain't Stubbins," declared Hannah, her 
eyes wide with fear. ‘‘ What can it be? " 
Mrs. Mulvaney, Cornelia Mary, and Sally 
remembered the stories they had heard, stories 
that had kept the house empty so many years. 

It must — must be imagination," declared 
Cornelia Mary, whose lower teeth seemed try- 
ing to break her upper teeth. 

“ WeVe all got ears," remonstrated Chinky. 
‘‘ It's Stubbins," insisted Mrs. Mulvaney, 
and I'll give it to him for being so smart 
and not answering Hannah." 

Upstairs went Mrs. Mulvaney, but she came 
down faster than she went up. It beats all," 
she declared, “ there ain't nobody in the house 
but us — and do you hear that noise again? 
I ain't afraid, but when I opened the attic 
door I heard some one cough, and then he 
laughed, though it sounded more like a 
squeal." 

‘‘ Listen, now," faltered Sally, hear that 
trot — trot — trot, again ? " 

Being a woman of action, Mrs. Mulvaney 
lighted a lamp. I’m going in that attic and 
look around," said she. “ I don’t care if you 
all come along." 


PIGS IN THE ATTIC 


S7 


I ain’t afraid/’ bragged Chinky. 

Hold your tongue,” said his mother, lead- 
ing the way toward the attic. 

Neither Cornelia Mary nor Sally could 
have spoken had they tried. Their jaws 
wouldn’t work. As for their knees, one min- 
ute they were stiff as the joints of a Dutch 
doll, the next the poor girls could scarcely 
stand. Johnnie was whimpering. Hannah 
and the twins clung together. Only Mike and 
Chinky pretended not to be afraid, as Mrs. 
Mulvaney climbed steadily upward. By the 
attic door she paused, surrounded by her fol- 
lowers. 

“ Trot — trot — trot — patter — patter — 
patter,” a shuffling sound, then all was still. 

‘‘ Open the door, Chinky, and step in,” 
whispered Mrs. Mulvaney. 

‘‘ You go first, ma, ’cause you got the 
light,” begged Chinky. Mrs. Mulvaney boxed 
his ears, and as the sound was repeated 
in the attic, it didn’t make it easier for Chinky 
to open the door. His mother pushed him in. 

Now what do you see? ” she said. 

Nothing,” chattered the boy, his very 
freckles growing pale beneath the lamp light. 


58 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

It happened that the pigs were hiding be- 
hind a box back of the chimney. One gave a 
little thin squeal just as the light was blown 
oiit. Another said ‘‘ Oof — oof ! ’’ Mike 
and Chinky bolted down the stairs. They 
thought the pig said, “ Boo — boo ! ’’ only of 
course they didn’t know they fled from the 
voice of a pig. 

When Stubbins reached home the house 
was still. The family were shivering in the 
sitting-room, talking in whispers. 

‘‘ Let’s keep still and see what Stubbins 
says,” suggested Sally. ‘‘ Why, he’s going 
upstairs ! ” 

Mrs. Mulvaney and the children ran into 
the dining-room, but scarcely had they crossed 
the threshold before the pigs began to squeal, 
and Stubbins was heard shouting: 

Hold sthill, pig, hold sthill ! Thay ! 
Wait! Ith tho dark you make me bump my 
head.” 

‘‘ I’ll bump your head,” called Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. “ What are you doing with pigs in 
this nice, new house, you bad boy? ” 

“ Oh, ma, don’t sthpank me, I thought they 



“ A CLEANER IF NOT A BETTER BOY. 






PIGS IN THE ATTIC 


6l 


wath wild pigth, and I put ’em here tho they’d 
be thafe, but I thed I’d take ’em back.” 

After much squealing and kicking the five 
pigs were caught and carried to the field by 
Hannah, Chinky, Nora, Dora and Johnnie. 
Stubbins was needed in the kitchen where he 
was given what you might call a double spank- 
ing; one for taking the pigs, the second for 
scaring his mother. 

The spanking finished, Stubbins was asked 
to tell about his meeting with Welcome Hodg- 
kins. The child repeated every word. Mrs. 
Mulvaney listened quietly until her young son 
confessed that he said his mother was used 
to dirt. Then she spanked him until the 
dishes rattled in the cupboard. After that 
Mrs. Mulvaney put dififerent clothes on Stub- 
bins, scrubbed his hands and face until the 
skin was raw, brushed his hair so hard his 
head swam, and sent him a cleaner if not a 
better boy, to call on Welcome Hodgkins. 

You can^t be folks unless you keep look- 
ing decent,” declared Mrs. Mulvaney, and 
don’t you ever let me know of your telling 
the neighbours that your mother’s used to 


62 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


dirt, or I may put you in the boiler and boil 
you clean next time/’ 

That is the way Mr. Hodgkins was led to 
believe that Mrs. Mulvaney was an uncom- 
monly neat woman, the day he and Stubbins 
became friends. 


CHAPTER VIII 


STUBBINS AND CHINKY LEARN THEIR NAMES 

Little by little Mrs. Mulvaney remem- 
bered her old country home. Little by little 
the springtime breezes, sweet and fresh, 
smoothed the wrinkles from her brow, and 
softened her voice. 

“ Thay, ma,” declared Stubbins one Sun- 
day morning, when the birds were singing 
from every swaying branch, and the green 
world seemed bursting with joy, “ Thay, do 
you know I think you’re motht ath pretty ath 
Mitheth Brown, and Mr. Hodgkinth he 
thay — ” 

Here Hannah put in a few words. “ Ma, 
I do wish you had a best dress. We live in 
such a nice house and everything, I wish — ” 

“ Go on, Stubbins,” interrupted Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, “what did Mr. Hodgkins say?” 

63 


64 the country Christmas 

“ He thay he thinkth I’ve got a awful nithe 
ma. 

“ Pshaw, now, what makes him think so? ’’ 
Well, he thay that ever thinthe he thed 
he’d give uth milk, if we’d come after it, he 
can’t help but notithe that uth kidth ith al- 
wayth clean when we come over there, and 
he thay it sthpeakth well for our ma.” 

‘‘ There now, is that all he says? ” 

‘‘ Oh, no, he thay he likth to have uth live 
here. He thed he wath afraid uth kidth 
would be a nuithanth and he ith ’greeably 
thurprithed. He thayth we do what he tellth 
uth to and he thinkth we’ll all be farmerth 
we learn thingth tho quick. I think we’re 
pretty nithe kidth mythelf.” 

You are improving,” admitted Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. What does Mr. Hodgkins think of 
our garden ? ” 

“ Oh, he thayth he thinkth ith fine. He 
thayth the way our ma keepth tho many kidth 
bithy ith wonderful. He thays too when he 
theeth the clotheth on the line after you hang 
them up, they ith tho white, ith like thnow, 
and he thay no wonder you get work to do. 
I thed uth kidth help a lot.” 


STUBBINS AND CHINKY 


65 


“ Stubbins,” questioned Mrs. Mulvaney 
with a curious look in her eyes as she gazed 
over the broad fields and orchards belonging 
to Mr. Welcome Hodgkins, “ What does he 
say when you young ones tell him that I’m 
— that I’m apt to be cross, and that you get 
all the spankings you deserve, hey?” 

Stubbins laughed. “ Thay, ma, do you 
th’pothe uth kidth ever tell about our lickunth ? 
Well, I geth not! You mutht think we’re 
thilly ! But thay, ma, thereth one thing 
Mithter Hodgkinth thay he can’t under- 
stand ? ” 

“Well, what is it?” 

“ He thayth he thinkth ith queer a thivi- 
lithed woman like you couldn’t get nameth for 
all of uth kidth. He thayth Thubbinth ithn’t 
a name and he thay how did I come by it? ” 

Mrs. Mulvaney caught Stubbins by the 
shoulders and shook him. “ You simpleton! ” 
said she, “ why didn’t you know enough to 
tell him your real name slipped your memory, 
that your folks called you Stubbins when you 
were little because you were always stubbing 
your unlucky toes.” 

“Why, ma!” protested Hannah, “He 


66 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


never was named; you know Stubbins is the 
only name he’s got.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney threw her slipper at Han- 
nah. ‘‘You know a lot, don’t you, Miss? 
Now listen, all of you. Johnnie, Mike, come 
here. You seem to have forgotten this boy’s 
name.” 

“ He ain’t never had no name,” declared 
Johnnie, dodging behind Chinky to escape the 
spanking he seemed to expect when his mother 
looked at him as she did at that moment. 

“You donkeys!” exclaimed Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. “ Dust out your ears now and you’ll 
hear something. Stubbins’s real name is 
Moses Aaron Mulvaney. Do you hear. Stub- 
bins? Your meetin’-house name is Moses. 
When you start school, your name is Moses. 
When a man asks who you are, answer Moses. 
Do you understand ? ” 

“ Oh, oh,” wailed Stubbins, “ Oh, thaketh 
alive, my name ith Motheth! Oh, thay, ma, 
I don’t want Motheth for my name. Motheth, 
Motheth, Motheth ! ” 

“ Oh, ma,” besought Hannah, “ think up 
another. Don’t let’s have that for his name. 
Let’s call him Willie or — ” 


STUBBINS AND CHINKY 


67 


Hannah/’ insisted Mrs. Mulvaney, that 
boy’s name is Moses Aaron Mulvaney. You 
can’t change names. Maybe now you’d like 
to be called Aribella or Fiddle-de-dee, but 
you’re Hannah and he’s Moses ! ” 

‘‘ Oh, Motheth, Motheth, Motheth ! ” 
grumbled Stubbins. ‘‘ Oh, thaketh alive, 
Motheth ! ” 

“What’s Chink’s name, ma?” demanded 
Mike, with a gleeful grin which lasted but 
a minute, owing to a pinch from Chinky 
which changed the expression of his face. 
“ Ouw — ” he began. 

“ Shut up ! ” warned Chinky, “ don’t you 
know enough to keep your mouth shut?” 

“ Yeth,” said Stubbins, “ if I’ve got to be 
Motheth, who ith he ? ” 

“Don’t you remember?” asked Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, “ why, Chinky’s name is Ezra Jona- 
than.” 

“ Ezra Jonathan ! ” groaned Chinky, his 
red hair and freckles looking startled. “ Oh, 
ma!” 

“ The idea of trying to be folks and not 
knowing your own names. I guess you’ll re- 
member ’em now, Moses Aaron and Ezra 


68 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


Jonathan. Nofs I care what Mr. Hodgkins 
thinks, ’cause it’s none of his business what 
your names are. But just the same you want 
to do everything you can to keep on the right 
side of him on account of our living in his 
house. You make yourselves useful to him 
and don’t never be sassy or he might turn us 
out. Mind that. You show him what a com- 
fort children can be, don’t never do what he 
don’t want you to, and always do what he 
tells you to.” 

Five children cheerfully promised to do as 
their mother advised, but poor Chinky and 
Stubbins simply grunted an assent, followed 
a minute later by two exclamations. 

‘‘ Ezra Jonathan ! ” 

‘‘Oh, Motheth!” 


CHAPTER IX 


Hannah’s pink dress 

Summer came, and the Mulvaneys pros- 
pered. Their garden grew and the neglected 
fruit-trees flourished. Mr. Hodgkins gave 
Stubbins two pigs, and the twins were given 
a flock of hens, whereupon Chinky earned 
some money, bought two turkeys, and by the 
time three of the hens were ready to set, his 
turkeys did the same thing; and the curious 
part of it is that each one of the eggs hatched, 
and every little chicken and little turkey lived. 

Often when Chinky was tired of weeding 
the garden or hoeing corn, he sat upon the 
fence and counted the money he hoped to 
possess in the autumn when he took his tur- 
keys to market. If his mother saw him wast- 
ing his time, he was obliged to continue his 
thinking while he worked. 

‘‘ Ma’s getting so she won’t let a feller stop 
69 


70 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


to wink/’ Johnnie grumbled one morning, 
when he was Chairman of the Committee on 
Potato Bugs. 

‘‘ She’s a regular general,” added Chinky, 
hoeing corn with all his might, ‘‘ and you 
young ones ’ll get cured of being so lazy.” 

‘‘Lazy, is it?” retorted Mike. “You go 
look at the front yard, mister, and say lazy 
if you dare, and you ain’t afraid of getting 
your nose punched.” 

“ That’s what,” agreed Johnnie, “ the min- 
ute we get home from school, it’s ‘ have you 
done this,’ and ‘ have you done that,’ and 
‘ start your boots ! ’ ” 

“ You ought to- be ashamed of yourself, 
Johnnie Mulvaney ! ” began Hannah, but she 
stopped for a minute because seeing her open 
mouth, Mike threw a potato bug into the cav- 
ern. 

“ You horrid boy,” she sputtered, “ I’d 
make you work harder’n ma does if I could, 
and you’ll be sorry next week when I ain’t 
here!” 

“Why, thay, Hannah, where you going?” 
asked Stubbins. 

“ I’m going away, and you boys’ll have to 


Hannah’s pink dress 71 

make the beds and tidy up, and wash the 
dishes, and I’m glad of it. Wish I was never 
coming back. You’re such a ungrateful set.” 

At the end of this speech Hannah was so 
pelted with potato bugs she fled from the field. 
The next day the little girl left home to earn 
fifty cents a week for two months helping in 
Mrs. Randall’s kitchen. 

As a matter of fact the Randalls had all the 
help they needed, but from the first day of 
school, Cornelia Mary had taken a fancy to 
Hannah, and had begged her mother to give 
the child a chance to learn how their neigh- 
bours lived. So, while Hannah washed dishes 
for fifty cents a week, she learned how to 
wash dishes properly. When she helped set 
the table and get the meals, she saw how such 
things should be done. When she made the 
beds with Cornelia Mary, she began to under- 
stand how sheets were used. 

As the days went by, even the five little 
Mulvaneys who met Hannah in school every 
day, noticed a change in their sister. She out- 
grew her rude way of speaking, and looked 
and acted like a different girl. She kept her 
hair combed prettily, proud of the bright rib- 


72 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

bons given her by Cornelia Mary. She 
learned to sew on buttons, and to keep her 
clothes in order. 

Straight, plain dresses aren’t meant for 
thin little girls,” observed Mrs. Randall, ‘‘ so 
we’ll make over some of Cornelia Mary’s old 
ones for Hannah.” 

The first Sunday Hannah wore one of the 
new dresses she blossomed out like a full 
blown rose. 

Run home and show your mother, child,” 
said Mrs. Randall. 

‘‘Well, I never!” exclaimed Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, as the pink blossom joined her family 
beneath an apple-tree. “If she don’t look 
like a posy with the pink bow on her hair, 
and such a splendiferous dress. Well, there 
now! I suppose you won’t never want to 
come back to live with your poor old ma.” 

“ Won’t I, though? ” For the first time in 
her life Hannah Mulvaney threw both arms 
around her mother’s neck, giving her a regu- 
lar bear hug. 

At that moment Welcome Hodgkins was 
returning across the fields to his lonely home. 


Hannah’s pink dress 73 


A happy family,” he muttered, knocking 
blooms from the clover with his stick. 



When are you coming home, Hannah ? ” 
asked Chinky. “ It’s awful lonesome without 
you.” 

‘‘ Well I geth it ith,” added Stubbins. 


74 the country Christmas 

‘‘ Fm going to stay three weeks more/^ 
Hannah replied, ‘‘ and, oh, ma, does table- 
cloth-ing cost much ? 

“ There's some that's dear, and some that 
ain't, — why? " 

‘‘ Can't we buy some, ma, and do things the 
way other folks do?" 

Mrs. Mulvaney sighed. ‘‘ When I was a 
girl at home," she said, “ we had things right, 
and after I married your pa I tried to do as 
my mother did, but children, it was no use. 
Your pa was out of work so much, and his 
health wasn't good," — Mrs. Mulvaney never 
referred to the fact that Mr. Mulvaney was a 
drunkard, — ‘‘ and somehow I got discour- 
aged, and I ain't brought you young ones up 
right. Now I feel glad and thankful we've 
got enough to eat and wear and a good house 
to live in, but it's too late for tablecloths." 

‘‘Why?" 

“ Because, Hannah, Stubbins wouldn't 
know no more how to act up against a table- 
cloth than one of his own pigs." 

“ We could learn," ventured Chinky. 

Hannah took courage. “ Listen, ma," said 
she, “ Miss Randall says she never saw such 


Hannah’s pink dress 


75 


bright children as we are. She says it's 'maz- 
ing the way we learn, only she hopes that 
when Stubbins gets old enough to go to school 
he won't keep his pockets loaded full of frogs 
and toads, the way he does now. Well, if we 
can learn geography and figures and history 
things and birds, why can't we learn table- 
cloths?" 

Mrs. Mulvaney shook her head. “ You 
have to be born to tablecloths," said she. 

Hannah wasn't born to big, wide, pink 
dresses and bows on her hair," announced 
Chinky, but look at her, ma, you'd think 
she'd worn 'em all her life. Not as you need 
to think you're so smart, Hannah, but I'm 
talking about tablecloths and being like other 
folks. Guess I use my eyes when I take home 
washings, and go after 'em." 

Now, ma, look here. Let's vote about it 
with grass. All that wants to be pigs and 
never know nothing go and put a long blade 
of grass in ma's lap. All what wants to learn 
manners, put a little, teenty, weenty piece of 
grass in her lap." 

The voting began before Mrs. Mulvaney 
had time to say a word. 


76 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ It’s for tablecloths and manners,” said 
Mrs. Mulvaney, pretending that the bits of 
grass were too small to be seen. ‘‘ And if we 
use tablecloths the first one that spills any- 
thing may get his head knocked off.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney had seen her neighbour go 
home across the fields. Turning to Hannah 
she changed the subject. Since you’re all 
dressed up,” she said, “ I suppose you 
wouldn’t mind going over to Mr. Hodgkins’s 
on an errand. I bet he’d like a loaf of 
gingerbread. I made some yesterday for the 
boys. Now remember, Hannah, be nice and 
polite, and you, too, Stubbins, for you can 
go along seeing’s you are all fixed up for 
Sunday. That man could turn us out of our 
good home if he wanted to, and you young 
ones must get on the right side of him. Mind 
that.” 


CHAPTER X 


THE HOME THAT WAS LOST ON CHRISTMAS DAY 

What is going to happen? ’’ asked Han- 
nah pausing at Mr. Hodgkins’s front gate and 
speaking to Stubbins. “ I guess he’s going 
to have company. The front door’s open, and 
the window’s open, and the side door’s open! 
What shall we do, Stubbins ? ” 

‘‘ Do what ma thed, and give him the cake, 
and leth get a look at the company.” 

‘‘ Shall we go to the front door or the back 
door?” 

Leth go to the front door, and get a look 
at hith houthe, too.” 

One glance at the long, gloomy hall and 
Hannah turned away. “ You can stay there 
and knock if you want to,” she said, “ but 
it’s too lonesome for me. I am going to the 
kitchen door.” 

‘‘ Well, thay, wait, tho I am too. There 


77 


78 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


he ith, Hannah, ther ith Mithter Hodgkinth 
thanding by the well.” 

‘‘What's he looking at?” 

The man greeted the children with a smile. 
“ Good morning,” he said, “ come here and 
see my brother.” 

“ Why, thath a mud turtle,” exclaimed 
Stubbins, plainly disappointed in the brother. 
“ Thath a mud turtle 'cauth Mith Randall 
thed tho.” 

“ Now, watch,” continued Mr. Hodgkins. 
“ You see, children, this old mud turtle is go- 
ing on about his business just as all the crea- 
tures around here are doing, only he moves 
a little slowly, to be sure. Now I am going 
to give this brown hen over here a touch with 
my stick and you'll see what will happen.” 

“ It’ll thquawk ! ” predicted Stubbins, and 
he was right. The brown hen made herself 
heard all over the yard as, she flew away. 

“Made the feathers fly, didn’t she?” 
laughed the man. “ Now we’ll see what the 
mud turtle will do. I won’t hit him a bit 
harder than I did the hen.” 

A knock on the mud turtle’s back ; he 
stopped crawling and in went his head. 


THE HOME LOST ON CHRISTMAS DAY 79 

‘‘ You'd think he was killed! " Hannah ex- 
claimed. 

Well, he ith a queer one,'' commented 
Stubbins. 

‘‘ Now you know why I call the mud turtle 
my brother," declared Mr. Hodgkins. “ Most 
people are like hens. When something strikes 
them hard they make a big fuss about it, and 
after they flutter around a while they go about 
their business exactly as they did before. I'm 
like the mud turtle. I crawled into my shell, 
and now they say I'm a queer one, as Stubbins 
says of the turtle." 

Hannah turned red. How did Mr. Hodg- 
kins know that the neighbours called him 
queer, and why was he a friendless man? 

Did something strike you hard, Mr. 
Hodgkins ? " she asked, in tones of sympathy. 

‘‘ I should like to tell you and your little 
brother about it if you care to listen," was 
the reply. You children seem like old 

friends. I've stayed so long in my shell I 
seem to have forgotten who my friends were, 
and I once had plenty of them. I suppose I 
have myself to thank, but do you know I 


8o 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


don’t suppose there’s any one left in the world 
who ever gives me a kindly thought.” 

Hannah suddenly remembered her errand. 
‘‘Ain’t there, though?” she cried. “Didn’t 
ma go and bake this gingerbread yesterday 
for you, and don’t she say you’re the best man 
that ever breathed ? ” 

“ Yeth, thath what,” added Stubbins. 

Mr. Hodgkins looked pleased. “ Did she 
do that for me ? ” he asked, taking the ginger- 
bread from Hannah, “ well, your mother is 
a good woman.” 

“ Thath what,” assented Stubbins, “ and 
uth kidth are nithe kidth too.” 

“ You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” 
chided Hannah, but the three laughed and the 
sunlight danced among the leaves. It was a 
bright Sunday. 

“ To-day,” began Mr. Hodgkins, “ I have 
opened my house for the first time in many a 
long year. Come with me and see what a big 
pleasant home I used to have.” 

“Ain’t you got it now?” demanded Stub- 
bins. 

“ No,” was the response, “ I have the house. 


THE HOME LOST ON CHRISTMAS DAY 8l 


my boy, but the home was lost one Christmas 
day.” 

“ Lotht your home on Chrithmuth ? ” ques- 
tioned the child. 

“ Come, I will show you a room that the 
sunlight has never shone upon since that same 
Christmas.” 

Silently the children followed Mr. Hodg- 
kins in the house, through the kitchen, into the 
hall. 

“ This was my home when I was a boy,” 
he went on, “ and here I brought my wife be- 
fore my father and mother died. We’ll go 
in the parlour first and I’ll show you a pic- 
ture. You see. I’ve opened the parlour.” 

By this time even Stubbins was speechless 
with wonder, and clung to Hannah as though 
he feared to lose her in the strange man’s 
house. Everything in the parlour was covered 
with dust. In spite of the feeling of awe that 
stole over her, Hannah noticed the good furni- 
ture and all that the room contained. 

“ Here’s the picture, children,” said Mr. 
Hodgkins, opening an album. 

Without speaking, Hannah and Stubbins 
gazed at the photograph. 


82 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


‘‘ They were mine,” said the man, softly, 
my little girl, my little boy, and their 
mother.” 

It seemed to Hannah that if her life had 
depended upon it, she could not have said a 
word. 

‘‘ Come,” suggested Mr. Hodgkins at last, 
as he closed the door and left the parlour, 
closely followed by the children. ‘‘ This was 
our sitting-room,” he continued, pausing be- 
fore a locked door. This is the first time in 
ten years that I have ever turned the key.” 

Hannah’s impulse was to run, but when the 
door was opened she felt as if her feet were 
growing into the floor. As for Stubbins his 
eyes came so near popping out of his head 
they really ached for an hour afterward. 
What the children saw was a Christmas tree 
yellow with age. It was a pitiful sight and 
belonged in a darkened room where Santa 
Claus might not stumble upon it. 

‘‘ We’ll have some air and light,” said Mr. 
Hodgkins, raising the shades and opening the 
windows. 

The tree looked ghastly in the sunshine as 
it stood revealed with all its faded, dusty trim- 


THE HOME LOST ON CHRISTMAS DAY 83 

mings. Here and there among the branches 
were children's treasures, a small china doll, 
a tin horn, a drum and a calico elephant. 
Beside the tree were two small rocking-chairs 
and on the floor were books. 

‘‘ Oh, dear," whispered Hannah. 

‘‘ There, child," sympathized Mr. Hodg- 
kins, I didn't bring you in here to make you 
sad, but this is my secret, and I thought if you 
could see this room perhaps we might be better 
friends. I thought perhaps you would under- 
stand your queer neighbour." 

‘‘ How did it happen ? " asked the child, 
crossing the threshold and standing near the 
tree, still clinging to Stubbins. 

This room is just as we left it that Christ- 
mas Day. We drove to a neighbour's in the 
afternoon, and while there our little ones went 
on the ice to play and were drowned. I came 
into the house before their mother, and the 
first thing I did was to close this door. The 
piano was left open just as you see it now. 
We sang a Christmas hymn that morning. 
Two months later the children's mother died, 
and I was left alone. 

‘‘ All this our neighbours know, but Hannah 


84 the country CHRISTMAS 

and Stubbins, no one ever knew we had a 
Christmas tree. At first I couldn’t take it 
down nor touch a thing and so the months 
went by, and at last the years, until like the 
turtle I have crawled more and more into my 
shell.” 

‘'Oh, dear, dear!” repeated Hannah, no 
longer trying to keep back the tears. 

“ Don’t cry, Hannah, don’t cry, or I shall be 
sorry you know my secret. Now we’ll shut 
the room again and forget it.” 

“ Don’t — don’t shut the room up again, 
Mr. Hodgkins. I wouldn’t, if I were you,” 
declared Hannah. “ Do you know what I’d 
do?” she continued, brushing away the tears 
and speaking earnestly. 

“ No, what would you do? ” 

“ I’d take away the tree, and then I’d clean 
the room and use it.” 

“ I’ve often thought of it, Hannah, but 
some way I can’t do it; and here the old tree 
stands just as we left it. It’s no use, and yet 
— see here, children, tell your mother I’ll give 
her five dollars if she’ll come over to-morrow 
when I’ve gone to town, and — and tend to 


THE HOME LOST ON CHRISTMAS DAY 85 

this room. You may come with her and go 
all over the house if you choose.’’ 

‘‘ And then,” agreed Hannah, ‘‘ you and 
us’ll go visiting. Sometimes you come over to 
our house to see us in our sitting-room, and 
next day or the next we’ll all come over here 
and visit you in your sitting-room, and we’ll 
be folks. And Mr. Hodgkins, don’t you think 
you’re the only man that’s had to get along 
without Christmases, because us kids never 
had a Christmas in our lives until last year.” 

“ You mean you never had a Christmas tree 
before, don’t you, Hannah? ” 

‘‘ No, I mean we never had a Christmas. 
We never even knew folks had trees in their 
houses until now, but you just wait! This 
year we’re going to have one of our own.” 

Yeth, and I geth you better come and help 
uth get it ready,” put in Stubbins, ‘‘ becauthe 
you know about the way to fixth ’em.” 

‘‘Thank you,” said Mr. Hodgkins, “I’ll 
think about it.” 


CHAPTER XI 


MRS. MULVANEY’s AIR CASTLE 

When Mrs. Mulvaney saw the Christmas 
tree she shook her head. Pm glad you’re 
with me, Chinky,” she began, ‘‘ Pd hate to be 
here alone, and what’s more, I hate to touch 
that tree. Poor man! To think how he’s 
missed his folks and him so good. Pd no 
more take any money for doing a neighbourly 
act like this than Pd fly.” 

Well, ma,” observed Chinky, ‘‘ Pd rather 
see you with the money than trying to fly with 
wings. Only think how you’d look ! I bet 
your feet’d drag.” 

Young man, if you’d use your eyes more 
and your tongue less, why then instead of 
making fun of your poor old mother you’d be 
learning a lesson from this tree before we take 
it out.” 

‘‘What’dilearn?” 


86 


MRS. MULVANEy’s AIR CASTLE 87 

‘‘ You’d learn how Christmas trees is 
trimmed. I think we ought to take pattern by 
this so’s we’d know how to get up our own.” 

Sure enough, ma, I’ll run home and get 
a pencil and a piece of paper and I’ll draw that 
tree just as it stands, so we’ll know where to 
hook up the strings o-f pop-corn, and the paper 
trimmings, and have a tree that is a tree.” 

Chinky was gone but a short time and soon 
finished three remarkable sketches which he 
put in his pocket for future use. 

‘‘ We’ll have a Christmas this year that’ll 
make up for lost time,” said Mrs. Mulvaney, 
smiling at Chinky through clouds of dust. 
‘‘ I believe we shall have to take everything 
in this room out-doors if we ever expect to 
get this place clean. How it all comes back 
to me the way my mother used to do things. 
We better shut up the piano, though I don’t 
know so much about this kind as I do about 
another.” 

“ You used to call your wash-board a piano, 
didn’t you, ma? ” Chinky remarked. 

So I did, and that ain’t saying’s I liked 
the music of it, either, still, who knows but 
our Hannah’ll be learning to play this — I 


88 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


mean, to play a sure enough piano some day. 
And Chinky, how'd you like to go to college? ” 
‘‘Why, Ma Mulvaney!’’ 

“ Well, how’d you like it?’’ 

“ Not for me, ma. I’m going to raise hens 
and turkeys, and I don’t want to take on any 
more schooling than I have to. What I’m 
going to be is a rich farmer. Hannah, she 
can go to college,” and Chinky grinned. 

“ I shouldn’t be a mite surprised,” added 
Mrs. Mulvaney, “ if it all happens.” 

“ What’s getting into you, ma? ” asked the 
boy. “ You’re talking just like Sally Brown. 
I know she thinks that smarty brother of 
hers’ll be the President of the United States.” 

“ Hoping,” agreed Mrs. Mulvaney, wiping 
the dust from two little rockers that she de- 
cided would fit Nora and Dora, “ hoping is 
just as Sally Brown says; it won’t do one 
mite of harm, and I hope to see my seven 
children amounting to something in the world. 
My! This is a pleasant room. Just see the 
view from the bay-window. That poor man, 
to be living here all alone! What are you 
laughing at, Chinky ? ” 

“ Well, ma, let me tell you. The other night 


MRS. MULVANEY^S AIR CASTLE 89 

Stubbins and I were over here helping Mr, 
Hodgkins feed the pigs, — you know he has 
about twenty-five, — and of course Stubbins 
he loves the pigs. Well, Mr. Hodgkins said 
‘ Stubbins, you’d better come over here, and 
live with me. I’ll give you all the pigs if you 
will,’ but Stubbins wouldn’t do it; he said, 
‘ even with the pigth it would be too lone- 
thome.” 

“ And Mr. Hodgkins,” inquired Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, putting the tin horn in a box, and won- 
dering if Mike would ever have a chance to 
blow it, ‘‘what did he say?” 

“ Oh, nothing much, he laughed and said 
something about our being lucky kids, and he 
didn’t blame Stubbins for wanting to stay with 
his ma.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney, with her back to Chinky, 
nodded her head and squinted her eyes curi- 
ously, then turned a big rocking-chair around 
and sat down for a moment. 

“ Well, ma, thinking of buying the chair, 
are you ? ” 

“ Why, Chinky? ” 

“ Because anybody’d think you was in a 
store picking out chairs to take home the way 


90 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


you try ’em all. Which are you going to 
keep? ” 

All of ’em, like enough, since you’re so 



bright,” admitted the woman, laughing softly 
as she rocked. ‘‘ And now say, you get to 
work and no more fooling. We’ll make a bon- 
fire of that tree. That poor man to be coming 
home from town this noon, and no family here 


MRS. MULVANEy’s AIR CASTLE 


91 


to meet him and no dinner ready. Come, 
Chinky, fly around and wedl get his dinner, 
pudding and all before we leave. What if we 
was all dead and hwas your pa? ’’ 

Mr. Hodgkins was surprised and pleased 
when he reached home. Not for years had 
any one taken the least interest in him. With 
the coming of the Mulvaneys he began to 
realize what he had missed. It was pleasant 
to be on friendly terms with one^s neighbours. 
He was glad the children liked to visit him. 
They were good children, too; never made 
him any trouble and were always well behaved. 
He wondered why Sally Brown had called 
them quarrelsome, and why she had said Mrs. 
Mulvaney was cross. 

Mr. Hodgkins never saw the little shanty 
in the city down by the railroad-tracks and the 
river, where the seven children were packed 
in like sardines. He never knew how hard 
was Mrs. Mulvaney’s life when she washed 
clothes from morning until night, merely to 
keep the seven from starving, so of course he 
didn't realize that after a few months in the 
country, a great change had come over the 
family. At last they were folks. 


92 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

While Mr. Hodgkins ate his dinner that day, 
the Mulvaneys gathered for the first time in 
their lives around a tablecloth, and if the cloth 
happened to be one of the new sheets folded 
in half what difference did it make? 

“ WeVe got to begin to practise putting on 
style without losing no more time,’^ declared 
Mrs. Mulvaney, ‘‘ and, Chinky, you tell Han- 
nah to ask Sally Brown to come over first 
chance she gets, and show you young ones 
table manners. YouVe got to learn ’em. I 
may want to ask company in to tea before 
long, and we don’t want no pigs to the table. 
Watch out, there, Stubbins, you’ve got your 
elbow in the butter. If you want something 
you can’t reach, don’t climb up on the table 
after it, that ain’t manners. Take your fork 
and reach over for it this way, do you see? ” 

‘‘ Thay, ma, what if I wath after thyrup! 
Th’pothe I could hook into that with a fork? 
Oh, ouw, oh, thay, don’t thlap me again. Oh, 
ouw, thay ! I’ll be good. I’ll be good ! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


WELCOME HODGKINS CHOOSES THE CHRISTMAS 
TREE 

It isn’t so easy as you might think to choose 
a Christmas tree. Many a day early as No- 
vember the seven little Mulvaneys trooped 
forth in search of one. The woods belonged 
to Mr. Hodgkins, who by this time had become 
their much loved ideal. Even Cornelia Mary 
had changed her mind about the man. 

He doesn’t seem half so queer when you 
really get acquainted with him,” she often re- 
marked to her mother. Mrs. Brown and 
Sally were delighted by the many acts of kind- 
ness he showered upon the Mulvaneys, and 
their friends the Turners began to like him. 

It so happened that the reason the seven 
children were so careful in their choice of a 
tree, was because Mr. Hodgkins, the Randalls, 
the Turners, Mrs. Brown, Alfred and Sally 
93 


94 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


were to share in its joy. The idea of having 
a Christmas tree was suggested by Mrs. Mul- 
vaney to the unbounded satisfaction of the 
children. 

‘‘ Who'll speak the pieces and sing the 
songs?" demanded Chinky. 

‘‘ All of us, of course," Hannah replied. 

‘‘Catch me speaking a piece to a tree!" 
sniffed Chinky. “ Johnnie and Mike and Stub- 
bins, they can do that." 

“Think you’re awful smart, don’t you?" 
began Mike, but his mother cut him short with 
her slipper. 

Johnnie was the boy who best knew how 
easily that slipper came off and should have 
known better than to laugh at Mike. 

“ I’ll paddle you next," warned Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. “You think you’re so cunning. Be 
quiet, children, and we’ll settle about how 
things is to be done Christmas Eve. We’ll 
have the speaking and the singing first, that 
being the way it was fixed at the Christmas 
tree you all went to at the church last year, 
though land’s sake that seems ten years ago, 
times has changed so much. 

“ We can sing some hymn tunes together. 


CHOOSING THE CHRISTMAS TREE 95 

company and all, and we’ll get Sally and Al- 
fred to speak the stylish pieces, as you might 
say, and maybe they’ll do what Nora and Dora 
did the last day of school, and speak a Christ- 
mas catalogue together.” 

Oh, ma,” corrected Hannah, you mean a 
dialogue.” 

‘‘ Take that,” continued Mrs. Mulvaney, 
boxing Hannah’s ears, ‘‘ and don’t be so free 
with your book learning as to forget your 
manners to your ma. Nora and Dora, they 
can speak their old catalogue,” this with a se- 
vere look at Hannah, who- was rubbing her 
ears, ‘‘ and Stubbins can speak his piece, and 
Mike and Johnnie can learn new ones to keep 
’em out of mischief.” 

Aw,” began Mike, but he went no further 
as the loose slipper showed signs of dropping 
ofif his mother’s foot. 

And you said, as I remember it,” went on 
Mrs. Mulvaney, that a church man did some 
speechifying in front of the tree. Mr. Hodg- 
kins, he’s the man that can do that, and when 
he gets to the end of it we’ll all clap our 
hands.” 

‘'Will Thanta Clauth come netht?” in- 


g6 THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

quired Stubbins, resting his chin in both hands 
with his elbows upon his knees. 

‘‘ Aren’t you ashamed,” replied Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. ‘‘ Now don’t you s’pose Santa Claus 
knows we can take care of ourselves this year? 
He better go where they’s poor folks. Moses 
Aaron, I’m ashamed of you.” 

Well, but thay, ma, how about Chrithmuth 
prethenth ? ” 

That’s where the real fun of Christmas 
comes in,” explained Mrs. Mulvaney; ‘‘we 
make presents for each other. When I was a 
girl at home my sisters and I used to begin 
making Christmas presents for our mother 
and father and aunts and uncles and cousins 
and for each other, way back in the summer, 
and then we hid ’em till the time came.” 

At this point Chinky winked at his mother 
and nodded his head as much as to say, “ You 
and I know a thing or two.” 

“ Well, Ezra Jonathan,” asked his mother, 
“ what are you making a fool of yourself 
for?” 

More winks and shaking of the head this 
time. 


CHOOSING THE CHRISTMAS TREE 97 

Well, Speak out, Ezra, and don’t set there 
acting like a dumb idiot.” 

“ You see, ma,” stammered the boy, still 
trying the effect of winks, I thought Santa 
Claus he wouldn’t mind putting the presents 
on the tree for us if we left ’em all on the 
what-not where he could see ’em easy.” 

Stubbins caught at the suggestion. Oh, 
thay, ma,” he begged, leth do it, I tell you 
uth kidth like that old Thanta Clauth. He 
ith all right. I don’t think Chrithmuth would 
be half tho nithe if he couldn’t thee our tree 
and put thome prethents on it.” 

All right,” consented Mrs. Mulvaney re- 
turning Chinky’s wink to the best of her abil- 
ity. Not being used to winking she had to 
screw up one corner of her mouth to do it. 
‘‘ Now then, after Mr. Hodgkins has his say, 
Chinky, I mean Ezra Jonathan, can take the 
presents off the tree and give ’em to Hannah 
and she can read out the names and Moses 
Aaron can carry the presents around and if 
he stubs his toes and breaks anything. I’ll 
warm his jacket right in front of the company. 
After that’ll come the Christmas dinner.” 

‘‘ Dinner at night ? ” asked Hannah. 


98 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


Yes, dinner at night,’’ was the reply. 
‘‘ That’s when we’re going to have Chink — 
Ezra’s big turkey. Now ain’t you glad you 
know manners, and ain’t you little boys glad 
you picked blackberries enough to pay for our 
fine company tablecloth and napkins, and ain’t 
you glad our cellar’s full of vegetables we 
raised ourselves? And think of the currant 
jelly Hannah made that’s awaiting for Christ- 
mas.” 

‘‘ We must pick out our tree,” Johnnie 
broke in, I think that one I showed you kids 
last night was the best in the whole bunch.” 

‘‘ But I don’t,” objected Hannah, it’s too 
tall.” 

‘‘ And the one I got, you say is too short,” 
pouted Mike. 

‘‘ And mine was lop-sided,” added Chinky. 

‘‘ And I can’t decide on any of them,” 
laughed Hannah. 

Oh, I thay ! ” cried Stubbins, ‘‘ I know a 
man what’ll know a good Chrithmuth tree 
when he theeth it.” 

‘‘ That’s a fact,” approved Mrs. Mulvaney, 
trot right over and ask Mr. Hodgkins for 
his advice.” 


CHOOSING THE CHRISTMAS TREE gg 

Appealed to by the seven, Mr. Hodgkins 
went to the woods with his young neighbours 
one bright December day and chose a large, 
perfectly shaped spruce. 

“ It won’t do,” declared Hannah. 

Why?” 

‘‘ It’s too big, Mr. Hodgkins, we’d have to 
cut a hole through the ceiling to make it stand 
in our sitting-room.” 

Mr. Hodgkins laughed aloud. 

“ It’s too big,” protested the seven. 

Mr. Hodgkins laughed again. ‘‘ I’ll go over 
and talk to your mother about it,” said he. 
“ We won’t cut the spruce down until Christ- 
mas week so it will be fresh and green. If I 
can make your mother believe this tree is just 
right, we’ll most surely have a Merry Christ- 
mas.” 

The seven were disappointed. 

‘‘ I think he’s crazy,” sputtered Chinky on 
the way home. 

‘‘ I know he is,” grumbled Johnnie, ‘‘ that 
tree’s high as our chimney.” 

Never mind,” said Hannah, ma’s got 
some sense if he ain’t. She won’t have that 
great big tree, don’t you fret.” 


Lore, 


loo 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


“ That's right, ma knows what’s what,” 
added Chinky, kicking the bright snow from 
his path and straightening his shoulders. 
“ She’s got a lot of sense.” 


CHAPTER XIII 

ON THE TRAIL OF SANTA CLAUS 

Mrs. Mulvaney failed the seven. 

“ What do you think, anyway? ” whispered 
Chinky when the children were gathered in 
Hannah’s room at bed-time. “ What ails 
ma? ” 

Hannah shook her head gloomily. “ Does 
anybody know ? ” she asked. 

“ Not me,” declared Mike. “ How’ll we 
ever get such a whoppering tree in the house? 
She won’t even go to look at it.” 

“ Nope,” added Johnnie, “ ma said first 
thing that if Mr. Hodgkins thought it was 
right, it was right, and since he’s been over 
here to talk to her about it you dassn’t hardly 
say tree.” 

“ She — she’s getting a new dress made,” 
offered Nora. 

“ Yes,” agreed Dora, “ and she says this — 


lOI 


102 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


this Christmas party is something we won’t 
never forget.” 

‘‘ I bet we won’t, if we have that tree,” 
grumbled Chinky. ‘‘ We might as well begin 
chopping holes through the floor and the roof, 
and I don’t know but we’ll have to cut a little 
chunk out of the clouds to make room for our 
Christmas tree.” 

‘‘ Oh, thay,” put in Stubbins, “ make the 
hole in the floor big, Chinky, tho we can look 
down and thee Thanta Clauth.” 

‘‘ That shows how much little kids know,” 
explained Chinky. ‘‘ You’ll have to get out on 
the roof, Stubbins, to see Santa Claus, because 
I suppose when he catches sight of so much 
tree sticking through the roof he’ll think it’s 
the whole thing and he’ll hang all the presents 
up on top of the house.” 

This speech was greeted by laughter so loud 
Mrs. Mulvaney opened the stair door and 
spoke. 

‘‘If you young ones don’t get in bed inside 
of five minutes,” said she, “ you’ll be sorry. 
Now I don’t want to hear another sound. 
How do you suppose I can sew up your Christ- 
mas clothes if you make such an uproar? ” 


ON THE TRAIL OF SANTA CLAUS 1 03 

The next day Chinky sharpened his hatchet 
on Mr. Randall's grindstone. In the after- 



noon, accompanied by his brothers'^nd sisters 
he went to the woods to cut down the tree. 

‘‘ Now you all want to stand back far 


104 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


enough/’ cautioned Chinky, ‘‘ so as to give me 
enough room to swing my arms.” 

Let me chop some,” begged Mike. 

Me, too,” added Johnnie. 

“ Look a-here,” declared Chinky. ‘‘ No lit- 
tle shavers allowed on this job. You ought 
to be glad to have a chance to see me do the 
chopping.” 

‘‘ Oh, thay,” cried Stubbins when the chil- 
dren reached the edge of the woods. Who’th 
took our tree? Ith gone.” 

“ It’s that Randall kid,” sputtered Chinky, 
scarcely able to believe his eyes. Look at 
the stump, will you, all hacked to pieces — he 
said he bet he knew more about cutting down 
trees than me. That looks like it! I’ll fix 
him. Come on, don’t stand here like ninnies 
looking at the place where our tree stood.” 

“ Leth — leth tell Mithter Hodgkinth,” 
sobbed Stubbins. 

‘‘ All right,” assented the angry brother, 
‘‘ and then I’ll give Smarty Randall a taste of 
my fist.” 

Your tree is gone! ” repeated Mr. Hodg- 
kins when the seven burst upon him. ‘‘ Well, 
there ! I know who took it ! ” 


ON THE TRAIL OF SANTA CLAUS I05 

“ Who? ” demanded Mike. 

“ Santa Claus, sir, the rascal ! I thought 
that tree he brought in looked extremely fa- 
miliar ! ” 

“What tree?” asked Stubbins. 

“You come in my sitting-room and see, 
children.” 

“ It’s our tree, sure enough,” said Johnnie, 
“ and did he put it up, too ? ” 

“ You better believe he did, and what’s 
more, you look in this closet.” 

Mr. Hodgkins opened a door, allowing the 
children one brief glimpse of Christmas pack- 
ages, dolls, books, sleds, and toys of all kinds. 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! ” cried the seven. 

“ They are all for you and every one who 
comes to the Christmas party,” declared the 
man. “ Santa Claus says this house is the 
place for your party because it’s bigger thai\ 
yours and he brought these presents ahead of 
time because he is so busy he was afraid he 
might miss us on Christmas Eve.” 

“ Aw,” began Chinky, but checked himself 
and laughed. “ Won’t it be jolly,” said he, 
“ that is if you don’t mind.” 

“ Oh, I’m delighted,” insisted Mr. Hodg- 


io6 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


kins, ‘‘only Tve asked the minister to come 
and — 

“ The minister,’’ groaned Chinky, “ what 
did you go and invite him for ? ” 

“ That’s all right,” interrupted Hannah. 
“ You ought to have the minister to a Christ- 
mas tree, don’t you remember? ” 

“ It was like this, children,” said Mr. Hodg- 
kins. “ Your mother said I was to make the 
speech, but I persuaded her that the minister 
could do it better.” 

“ Bother the minister,” whispered Mike. 

“ I thay tho, too,” echoed Stubbins. 



“THE SEVEN STOOD IN 


i 


I 


j 




CHAPTER XIV 


THE HOME THAT WAS FOUND ON CHRISTMAS 
DAY 

Gaily passed the week before Christmas. 
Every one was busy, every one was happy. 
Mrs. Mulvaney swept and dusted the house of 
Welcome Hodgkins from top to bottom. Not 
a corner escaped her broom. 

In the sitting-room the Christmas tree glit- 
tered and shone. Frost sparkled on the win- 
dows, while outside in the winter sunshine 
sang the chickadees. 

Early Christmas Eve the company arrived, 
smiling and joyous. Mrs. Mulvaney greeted 
them in her new gown. The seven stood in 
a row to welcome Sally and Alfred. The little 
girls’ dresses and the boys’ waists were made 
from the same piece of bright pink chambray, 
whereat Tom Randall grinned and punched 
Cornelia Mary. 

109 


no 


THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 


Everything passed ofif as Mrs. Mulvaney 
planned. Stubbins spoke his piece beautifully, 
the singing was good, and the dialogues were 
perfect. Mr. and Mrs. Isaac Turner, Mr. and 
Mrs. Randall, and Sally’s mother, having no 
other part on the program, clapped their hands 
vigorously at the close of each performance. 

Finally, at a signal from Mrs. Mulvaney, 
the minister rose. “ Friends,” said he, “ my 
presence here to-night shall no longer be a 
mystery to you. If Mrs. Mulvaney and Mr. 
Hodgkins will please step forward, we will 
give these seven fatherless children a Christmas 
present.” 

Stubbins bent forward with his mouth open, 
and listened in amazement while the minister 
married his mother to Welcome Hodgkins. 
He was the first to speak at the close of the 
ceremony. 

‘‘Well, thay! that wath a thurprithe, but 
ith a good one.” 

Every one seemed to agree with Stubbins, 
and for awhile the Christmas tree was entirely 
forgotten. Poor Chinky was so astonished 
and dazed, he could scarcely cut the gifts from 
the tree when reminded of his duty. At last 


THE HOME FOUND ON CHRISTMAS DAY III 


his mother brought him to his senses by a more 
or less gentle shake. 

Well, ma,'' laughed Chinky, it’s you, 
ain’t it? I almost didn’t know you for a 
minute.” 

Don’t you be sassy,” chided his mother, 
or you’ll get something besides Christmas 
presents right here in front of your second pa 
and the company.” 

Chinky didn’t look a bit alarmed, and in the 
midst of fun and excitement did his part in 
the distribution of the gifts. 

At the dinner-table Stubbins snuggled close 
beside his new father. ‘‘ Well,” said he, and 
all the children agreed with him, ‘‘ I thay this 
ith thertainly a Merry Chrithmuth ! ” 


THE END. 






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COSY CORNER SERIES 

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well- 
known artists, and each volume has a separate attrac- 
tive cover design. 

Each I voL, i6mo, cloth o o . . $0.50 

By ANNIE FELLOWS /ONNSTON 

The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its hero- 
ine is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, 
on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school 
Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family 
are famous in the region. 

The Giant Scissors. 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures 
in France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex- 
periences of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.’* 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is 
not, however, the central figure of the story, that place 
being taken by the “ two little knights.” 

Mildred’s Inheritance. 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful 
speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is en- 
abled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the 
use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, 
happy one. 

B-l 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON {Continued) 

Cicely and Other Stories for Qlrls. 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for 
young people. 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories. 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will 
appeal to all boys and most girls. 

Big Brother. 

A Story of two boys. The devotion and care of 
Steven, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the 
theme of the simple tale. 

Ole Mammy’s Torment. 

“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

The Story of Dago. 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 

The Quilt That Jack Built. 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and 
how it changed the course of his life many years after 
it was accomplished. 

Flip’s Islands of Providence. 

A Story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and his 
final triumph, well worth the reading. 

B— a 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A Little Puritan’s First Christmas. 

A Story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how 
Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child 
of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty. 

The author introduces this story as follows : 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A Loyal Little Maid. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, 
renders important services to George Washington. 

A Little Puritan Rebel. 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the 
time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of 
Massachusetts. 

A Little Puritan Pioneer. 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settle- 
ment at Charlestown. 

A Little Puritan Bound Qirl. 

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A Little Puritan Cavalier. 

The story of a “ Little Puritan Cavalier ” who tried 
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and 
ideals of the dead Crusaders. 

A Puritan Knight Errant. 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights 
of olden days. 

B-3 


L. C. PAGE AATP COMPANY'S 


By QUID A (Louise de la Ramie) 

A Dog of Flanders : a Christmas Story. 

Too well and favorably known to require description. 

The Nurnberg Stove. 

This beautiful story has never before been youblished 
at a popular price. 

By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 

The Little Giant’s Neighbours. 

A charming nature story of a “ little giant ” whose 
neighbours were the creatures of the field and garden. 

Farmer Brown and the Birds. 

A little Story which teaches children that the birds 
are man’s best friends. 

Betty of Old Mackinaw. 

A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to 
the little readers who like stories of ‘‘ real people.” 

Brother Billy. 

The Story of Betty’s brother, and some further ad- 
ventures of Betty herself. 

Mother Nature’s Little Ones. 

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, 
or “ childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors. 

How Christmas Came to the MuU 
vaneys. 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor chil- 
dren, with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 
The wonderful never-to-be forgotten Christmas that 
came to them is the climax of a series of exciting inci- 
dents. 


cosy CORNER SERIES 


By MISS MULOCK 

The Little Lame Prince. 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many ad- 
ventures by means of the magic gifts of his fairy god- 
mother. 

Adventures of a Brownie. 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook 
and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the 
children who love and trust him. 

His Little Mother. 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and “ His Little Mother,” in 
this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts 
of youthful readers. 

Little Sunshine’s Holiday. 

An attractive story of a summer outing. “ Little Sun- 
shine ” is another of those beautiful child-characters for 
which Miss Mulock is so justly famous. 

By MARSHALL SAUNDERS 

For His Country. 

A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved 
his country; written with that charm which has endeared 
Miss Saunders to hosts of readers. 

Nita, the Story of an Irish Setter. 

In this touching little book. Miss Saunders shows how 
dear to her heart are all of God’s dumb creatures. 

Alpatok, the Story of an Eskimo 
Dog. 

Alpatok, an Eskimo dog from the far north, was stolen 
from his master and left to starve in a strange city, but 
was befriended and cared for, until he was able to re- 
turn to his owner. 

B — 6 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE 

The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow. 

This story, written by the gifted young Southern 
woman, will appeal to all that is best in the natures of 
the many admirers of her graceful and piquant style. 

The Fortunes of the Fellow. 

Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm 
of “ The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow” will welcome 
the further account of the adventures of Baydaw and 
the Fellow at the home of the kindly smith. 

The Best of Friends. 

This continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog and 
his Fellow, written in Miss Dromgoole’s well-known 
charming style. 

Down in Dixie. 

A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of 
Alabama children who move to Florida and grow up in 
the South. 


By MARIAN IV. WILDMAN 

Loyalty Island. 

An account of the adventures of four children and 
their pet dog on an island, and how they cleared their 
brother from the suspicion of dishonesty. 

Theodore and Theodora. 

This is a story of the exploits and mishaps of two mis 
chievous twins, and continues the adventures of the 
interesting group of children in “ Loyalty Island” 

B — 6 




JUL i9 1907 








